The American Files: Grace Angeram, Obnoxious Human
by YusukiShredder
Summary: Grace and her father haven't talked about IT since it happened a year ago. IT made her hang up her running shoes; her passion. IT turned her dad into a telephone-phobic recluse. And now IT has tangled her up into a case of the supernatural. Grace Angeram-age: 18, hair color: brown, species: Obnoxious Human-meet the Rekai Tentai. HieiXOC
1. From Hell

**A/N**

**Hey guys/readers/demons spying on human civilization! It's been a while since I've done anything on fan-fiction, but I was sick over Thanksgiving Break and I decided to take a break form my serious works to hammer out an idea thats been swirling through my head for awhile. Hope you guys enjoy, and I know it may seem a bit slow at first, but I'm trying to tackle this fan fiction like I would a real novel, so bear with me here :)**

**Anyway, enjoy! Oh, and I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho. If I did, I wouldn't have to fight for scholarships to afford tuition.**

* * *

**Chapter 1—From Hell**

"Dad!" Grace shoved open the kitchen door and dropped her backpack to the floor with a heavy thud.

As par usual, her father was engrossed in the cracked screen of his laptop, thick fingers scuttling excitedly over the keyboard. She locked her teeth together as she watched the hunch of his broad shoulders, the spastic silhouette of the unruly brown hair she had inherited, and the stained pajama shirt covered in famous Shakespearean insults. Most of the time, seeing his figure against the light of the afternoon window stirred a chuckle in her chest, and a sentimental smile to the corners of her lips. Now, however, with the after image of the Transfer Student From Hell still whirling through her mind, his eccentric form only made her want to chuck his crippled laptop and scream for his attention.

"Dad!" she hollered again, racing up behind him and planting her mouth right behind his good ear. "DAD!"

He jumped like she had physically assaulted him. "What?" His glasses slipped down the slope of his nose as he glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, Gracie. What's wrong? You could wake the dead with a voice like that."

She bared her teeth and made choking motions with her hands. "Fllflflflflfll-!"

He stared a moment before smiling widely. "The transfer student again?"

It was a good thing he knew her so well. "I want to murder him!" She screamed, and locked her hands around his imaginary throat. "I'm—I'm going to find out where he lives, crawl into his bedroom at night, and yank out his liver through his ear! I swear, Dad, one more day of this and either he's going out the second story window, or I am!"

Why did he always have such a calm reaction to her infuriated rants? He pushed his glasses back into position, turned a little, and motioned to the chair on the other side of the round table. Grace rubbed her bottom teeth to her top ones, imagining she was chewing on the stupid Jap's head, and sat down.

Her dad, kind man that he was, finally decided to focus his full attention on her. He closed his laptop and folded his large hands, nodding to her to continue.

She blew out a large puff of air. "I'm going to kill him. He's even making me racist, Dad! All I think when I see him is, GO HOME! No one wants you here!"

Grace frowned as she watched her dad assume Responsible Wise Old Man Character mode. "No one can make you do anything, Gracie. It's all a matter of choice. You are letting yourself feel racist towards him because he's difficult. You have to take responsibility for it."

He sounded like Gandalf, or Dumbledore. Grace frowned. Mental note, lull dad away from his current RPG project before seeking more sympathetic advice.

"Now," He continued, still looking like a more modern, shaved, game-designer version of Gandalf. "What exactly has he done this time?"

"This time?" Grace guffawed. As if everything up until now hadn't been enough—oh! But this time, she could get him for it. He's crossed a line, this time. "Complete truth, dad, promise. He kegged me. In the middle of class!"

She nearly dropped her head on the cheap table top as her dad's brows furrowed. "Kegged? As in, beer?"

"He pulled down my flibbin' pants!" She rephrased, her fists making the table quake. Her dad rested a hand over the precious, dilapidated laptop.

"He pulled them down?" His brows were still furrowed.

"Yes!" She cried. "In the middle of History! Complete sexual harassment, dad. I swear, this time I'm reporting him!" Oh, she could just taste how great a punishment he was going to get. And it would be wonderful—so deliciously, satisfyingly, vengefully wonderful.

Dad pulled a glass of chocolate milk toward him, and pulled on a bendy straw with his lips. Grace tapped her fingers, frowning through irate huffs, as she watched the pale brown liquid race up the small pipe. Why was it he couldn't ever seem to think without eating? He could go days without consuming hardly anything but a can of root beer and a single bag of cheez-puffs when he was working on charcter designs and emailing the coders, but the moment she posed him a question or problem in the real world, he had to consult the almighty reservoir of wisdom known as CHOCOLATE MILK.

He drained half the glass in thought. Grace was ready to explode and take half the city with her.

"Are you sure that's wise?" He finally said, licking his lips.

She gaped. "What? Dad, seriously? You're not pe-o'd that he pulled down my pants in the middle of class? What kind of dad are you?" She spluttered, but even in posing the question, she knew the answer. Her dad kept a beat-up old laptop because her mom had named it Larry, sat at the kitchen table drinking chocolate milk when he thought about life, and slept, more often than not, on the couch just in the other room to the restful lullaby of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

He smiled at her in answer. She sighed with a nod.

"Yeah, yeah." She thrust her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. "So what would Dumbledore say?"

He raised his glass. "Let the hawk perch and let the eagle perch."

She paused. "Dumbledore totally wouldn't have said that."

He grinned and offered her the glass. "Right! But Achebe said it, and he was right."

She rubbed her forehead. "You want me to live and let live? Let him just keg me in the middle of class?"

"Heavens no." Her dad laughed. She stared at him through her fingers, gray eyes wide and frustrated. "I want you to take care of things yourself. You're a bird of prey, Gracie. Figure out how to take on a fellow bird of prey."

She sighed. "I'm pretty sure that's not what that proverb meant."

"Perspective, sweetheart."

Grace took the chocolate milk, stood, and meandered out of the kitchen into the living room. The couch was soft and swallowed her like a hungry monster as she sat on its raspberry colored girth. The milk slid down her parched throat, and, in the tradition of her father, she stopped to consider life.

Bird of prey, huh? She pondered. Well, she liked the sound of that. And Yusuke Urameshi sure seemed like he thought of himself as a predator too. She bet he thought he was the eagle, for that matter. Her teeth bit down on the straw as she smirked to herself. Oh, an eagle was he? She grinned at the flat, black face of the TV propped in front of her.

"Bald eagles are endangered here in the United States, Mr. Urameshi." She stirred the shallow puddle of chocolate milk left with the maimed straw. "And I'm about to make them extinct."

**O.O.O.O**

Of course, Grace was a lot of talk and she knew it. She loved to talk smack. It made people laugh, and she liked to see people happy. However, she never liked to say something aloud that she didn't think she could truly back up, if push came to shove. This time was no different.

As she loaded up for school the next day, her legs shook under the weight of both her backpack, and her decision. Standing up to transfer student Yusuke Urameshi probably wasn't the brightest idea she had ever had.

Still, she didn't want yet another class to find out she wore Disney princess underwear. She couldn't help her nostalgic love for Disney classics. Liking happy endings wasn't a crime!

She shook her head as she opened the front door. The crisp morning wind blew past her cheeks, and she threw her head back to look at the high ceiling.

"See you later dad! If I'm not back by four please assume that Yusuke Urameshi has beaten me to a pulp in an alleyway somewhere and that I'm probably on the verge of death!" her voice danced through the house.

"Uh-huh." Came her dad's concerned reply.

She stared at the ceiling for another moment, rolling her eyes at it in substitute for her dad, and rushed outside for the bus. The bus driver eyed her warily as she stumbled up the steps, dizzied with thoughts of yelling at Yusuke, but she ignored him. She could already see his brown eyes narrow, those shadows fall over his expression. She wheezed as she sat down on the worn seat, knees knocking like a sissy's.

It took barely ten minutes for Jasper High, home of the (mediocre) Red Demons, to scroll into her window. She clasped the straps of her backpack, biting her bottom lip like it was the enemy, and leaned with the inertia of the bus as it parked in front of the two-storied, red and yellow bricked building.

"Hey, Grace," A voice prodded at the side of her head. "Earth to Grace! Hello . . . !"

She forced her head to move sideways. Annie, her red-headed best friend, was grinning and blocking the walkway. Kids grumbled at the back of her flame-colored braid, but she had her ankles locked against the side of the seats with determination.

"Holding up traffic? For me?" Grace pressed a flattered hand to her chest and slid into the aisle, resuming the flow and allowing for a great collection of sighs. "You're the best."

Annie laughed. "'Course I am." Her smile stretched up into her brown eyes.

The next moment they were on the sidewalk, rushing into the crowd with a current of frustrated kids pressing them forward. For a moment Grace fought. Then, with a gut-wrenching picture of Yusuke sliding into her mind, her fight fell away and she strayed aimlessly with the crowd, her face twisted in horror as she imagined her head getting busted in.

Grace managed to grab onto her locker through the crowd and her own haze, and pulled out of the current. Her fingers twisted the combination without her knowledge, and she robotically gathered her books.

"I'd say you look out of sorts, but I think that's kind of an understatement." Annie appeared beside her locker, arms folded around a thick wad of sheet music. She was the leading soprano in the Senior Advanced Choir.

Grace peered over her biology textbook with watery puppy eyes. "I'm making a big decision. And I think it's going to get my face flattened."

Annie winced. "Please tell me you're not going to call that Yusuke guy out on his huge jerkitude."

She paused. Squinted. Nodded.

Annie face-palmed. "Grace! Why? Just go the Principal. Mr. Malone needs something to do—a sexual assault charge should keep him busy, get the moron off your back, and preserve your precious little face! See? Everyone wins."

Grace pulled herself up a little. Annie was probably right. But she had said it aloud—she couldn't go back on it now. "Annie, I . . . am a hawk!" She dropped her fist on the top of her biology book.

Annie closed her eyes like she was enduring physical pain. "You've been listening to your dad again, haven't you?"

"Yes I have!" She declared, and strutted into the stream of people. Annie ran to catch up. "And I am going to show that stupid Jap who rules the skies, and how bald eagles are almost extinct!"

Grace didn't have to look to know Annie was rubbing her small forehead. After ten years of best-friendship, three day long sleep overs, and a mill of typical school drama, she could go blind and still know exactly what face the red-head was pulling.

"Sometimes I wonder how qualified your dad's advice is. You know what, actually, I do know how qualified your dad's advice is. And you know what else? I think you should probably stick to listening to me."

Grace waved her hand to dispel her concern. "Just because you're right doesn't mean I'll listen, silly billy."

"Ugh." Probably an eye-twitch there. "Fine. Just keep your cellphone on so I can come drive you to the hospital when you're mangled in an alley."

Grace pictured herself lying on the ground, ugly auburn hair matted with blood and her face looking like Kirsten Stewart's in that one vampire movie. She blew out her cheeks like a blowfish and said nothing. She was a total idiot. Why did she make decisions like this?

I am a hawk, she told herself firmly. I am a bird of prey.

The bell for first period rang, and she and Annie bid reluctant farewells before darting off in separate directions. Grace slid into History moments before the last bell chimed, and claimed her alphabetically designated seat. Angeram. First row, second seat—right behind Adams. On the opposite side of the room from that loser Yusuke Urameshi.

He came in late—predictable as ever. She peeked through her curtain of curly hair and found him lounging back in his seat, brown eyes set on the wall behind the teacher, beyond the board, his black brows low and concentrated. What the heck did he concentrate on, anyway? He never answered when the teacher asked him a question. And his grades were poor—she's spotted a red seventy eight painted across the top of his last test. What in the world was he thinking about?

She turned back to the teacher as the scrawny old woman pulled out the projector and began tinkering with the computer. Probably searching for a youtube video that somehow made the Industrial Age interesting.

Suddenly, a large clink smashed against her right temple. The next second she was lying on her back, head throbbing, staring at the ceiling in a mixture of extreme confusion and building rage.

"Oh, Miss Angeram, are you—" Mrs. Scrawny Old Woman began.

"That's it!" Grace launched up, still reeling from the impact, and jabbed a woozy finger toward the lucid shape of that stupid, ridiculous, dangerous, trouble-making, awful, immature, thinks-he's-an-eagle-but-he's-about-to-be-extinct Yusuke Urameshi. "You stupid Jap! Go home!" She stumbled and nearly fell to the ground again. Her voice was still ringing over the students. "You heard me Urameshi, you're a jerk! A huge jerk! Go home and leave me alone! What the heck is your problem, anyway? Why the flub are you picking on me? What the heck did I ever do to you, HUH? Want to start something? Well come at me bro! Bring it on, I'll take you for all you got!" She opened her arms, inviting a fight, and swayed on her feet.

For a second, there was complete silence. Then, as her vision cleared, she found Yusuke's concentrated expression collapse into a grin. It widened and escalated until he threw back his head and laughed like she was the most hilarious spectacle he had ever witnessed.

Her cheeks burned as every other unimportant person picked up on the cue like a herd of mindless sheep and started laughing their heads off. Her head throbbed as she clenched her teeth. Oh? So he wanted to go that route, huh? Make her seem like she was crazy, taking things too seriously? Well fine. She'd be the crazy, over-intense girl. She'd be it and more.

Ignoring the calls of Mrs. Scrawny Old Woman to sit down, she marched down her row and across the room. Yusuke calmed down enough to actually look up, just in time for her downward swing and opened palm.

There was a long pause. Mrs. Scrawny Old Woman was even silenced in the echoing after-math of the loud slap. Yusuke's face was turned from her, but even from the limited perspective Grace could see a red handprint arising across his cheek.

"The hell . . .?" He turned back to look at her.

She was surprised by a lot in the one second break between Mrs. Old Scrawny Woman's reaction, and Yusuke's expression. First, he didn't look upset. His eyebrows were low, but as he touched his cheek, something in his eyes softened. Like he was savoring a memory. What kind of nostalgia could being slapped trigger? She shook her head in disbelief. Second, her hand stung a lot more than she thought it should. She should high-five people more often, get used to the burn. Third, she realized she really was crazy. She thought slapping him would make her feel powerful and hawk-like. But it only made her realize she was an idiot, and that she was probably going to get arrested for assault.

"Miss Angeram!" Mrs. Scrawny Old Woman exclaimed, her voice reaching higher and higher until she sounded like a bird of prey.

Grace's mouth dropped open as Yusuke's cheek grew red and hot, just to look at. "I—I—"

Yusuke's face slowly changed from nostalgic, to annoyed, to bored with just a pinch of irritation. He stuck a finger in his ear and cleaned, staring up at her as his eyebrows took a steep dive in the middle of his forehead.

"You what?" He grumbled. "Geez, work on your swing. That's the lamest slap I've ever gotten.."

She gritted her teeth, the anger drowning out Mrs. Scrawny Old Woman's rising reprimand. "I regret nothing."

Grace forced back shivers as Yusuke pulled out his finger, looked up at her, and smiled. It wasn't a nice smile—not even quite a dark smile. It was far, far more than a dark smile—it was what a dark smile wanted to be when it grew up. It was dangerous; a wild smile pulled through his lips. She could almost feel something clawing up inside him, staring at her through his eyes.

"Yeah." He chuckled wickedly. "Not yet you don't."

She was pretty much ready to pass out.

**O.O.O.O**

Grace wasn't sure exactly how she wriggled out of an arrest warrant. Maybe it was her running record; no misdemeanors, plenty of community service from volunteering at the library and tutoring for free; that convinced the Principal to actually be a human being and let her off with a warning. She practically melted as she walked out of his office, leaning on the wall for support.

Naturally, Physical Fitness would be her next class. Grace wobbled down the halls toward the gym, her heart slamming and her lungs squeezing together. The halls began to spin around her until she was encased in a melting blob of red and yellow brick. Red Demons. Maybe she was in hell now.

She stumbled until a wall lifted against her back, and her hand, trembling, found its way into her messenger bag. She ripped out her inhaler at the first touch, and took two long, relaxed breaths through the nozzle.

After a minute, she could breathe again. The halls transformed from the fifth ring of hell to the regular old high school hell she knew and—well, knew. Love really didn't come into play here.

Coach Wess turned the moment she opened the doors to the gym. She nearly froze, like a deer in oncoming traffic, before she remembered she had a get out of jail free card—a hall pass—and thereby was untouchable. She held it out as he came over with that hunter's gleam in his eye.

He stood straight and disappointed as he spotted the principal's signature on the piece of paper. He frowned lopsidedly and motioned with his head and a grunt for her to join the line of sprinters.

Why me? Grace drooped as she hurriedly changed and ran for the line. She folded her arms once she was in place, nervously glancing back at her messenger bag where her inhaler lay a disturbing distance away, and moved inch by inch toward the sprinting line.

She hadn't always been scared of sprinting. In fact, she's been on the track team since freshman year. Her heart shot into her throat as she moved up to second in line. She'd never been nervous about running—it used to make her feel free, strong, powerful. As a runner, she'd been unbeatable. She'd been a hawk on the ground.

But ever since—

She closed her eyes and pinched the back of her hand. Now wasn't the time to think about it.

"Angeram!" Coach Wess bellowed.

She shot out instinctually, sprinting across the squeaking gym floor. Her lungs seized halfway across the distance, like a vice in her chest, closing off any hopes of oxygen. Her knees bubbled. Her heart started exploding in her ears. Noises popped behind her eyes.

She collapsed.

When Grace finally came to, school was over. The school nurse hadn't called the hospital and sent her over; she said it was just a small asthma attack. She'd given her a couple puffs of her inhaler, and her breathing steadied. She didn't know why she'd slept so long. The nurse met Grace in the eyes after she finished explaining and waited, as if she'd spill all her thoughts with such a small look. Grace just shrugged, thanked her, and gathered her stuff to go home.

Well, she'd missed the bus. The nurse had offered to call her dad, but she just thanked her and dismissed the idea. Her dad never heard the phone when it rang. He's grown immune to the sound years ago.

As Grace wandered out the front doors and headed in the direction of her suburb, she wondered if that would happen to her one day. Would she grow immune to her fears too?

She decided that today had, just in general, been completely awful. She kicked up rocks with her converse as she walked the memorized streets back to her home. She used to run down these streets. But it had been nearly a year since she'd felt the wind of these alleys tears passed her cheeks, sting her eyes, fill her with power. She frowned as she came up to the Pizza Parlor alley that cut five minutes off her journey home. Power. Yeah, like she'd ever really had that. Maybe she'd never been a hawk after all.

She needed to tell her dad to get better quotes.

Grace stopped as she rounded into the alley way. Two figures were scuffling in the distance. A solemn chill fell down her back like rain, and she shuffled back. Her feet caught in the dirt and held her fast, frozen, as her eyes swarmed over the scene. She focused on the slighter figure as she tried to back away. Her knees locked and her throat clenched as she took in the slicked back black hair and strong shoulders—Yusuke Urameshi.

She bit her bottom lip. She knew he was trouble! He must be some sort of gang banger. How in the world did he manage to get into the exchange student program, anyway?

His hand was posed like he had a gun; she couldn't tell if he did or not from the distance, but she wouldn't be surprised. There was an animal in the back of his eyes at school—he had to let it out somewhere.

Should she call someone? Grace flattened herself against the Pizza Parlor's grimy bricks. That would require a cell phone, which her dad refused to get her on the belief that nothing ever good came from a telephone call. Obviously, he'd overlooked emergencies and 911 when forming that opinion.

"That's it!" Yusuke's rugged yell blew through the alley. "Spirit gun!"

A scream wrenched through her mouth before she knew what was happening. Her eyes seared with pain as blinding light erupted down the alley—did he have a bomb?—and a rush of scratchy heat peeled her hair back from her face. She choked on the crackling smell as it coursed through her nostrils, and slid to the gravel ground as the wind suddenly stopped and left her heart hammering and throat parched.

Her hands were locked tight around the strap of her messenger bag. She swallowed hard, leaned, and peeked around a trash can to see back into the alley. Her legs shook, leaving only her arm for support. She hesitated just before getting full view of the alley. What if there was a dead body? Her eyes widened. If Yusuke found her at the scene, he would kill her, wouldn't he?

Her hand slipped and the next moment her chin collided with the gravel. She swallowed the pain as a lump of hot saliva, and stared in horror at the scene beyond.

Yusuke was turning in her direction, frowning and pulling something out of his pocket. The gun? Another bomb? Her eyes swiveled to the purple puddle slipping through the cracks in the gravel. A wave of nausea rushed over her and made her movements clumsy. She tried to throw herself out of sight, but Yusuke's body turned sharply in her direction, and she knew she'd been seen.

"Hey! Who's there!" His loud, crude yell shot over her head.

Grace swallowed the bile climbing her throat and stumbled upwards until she was standing. She gripped her messenger bag, hand fumbling through it for her inhaler. Yusuke rounded into the gap between the Pizza Parlor and Macy's Makeup Emporium, his dangerous brown eyes widening as he spotted her.

He rested a hand on the belt loop of his jeans. "Well, crap."

Her breath locked in her mouth.

He smacked a hand to his forehead, scratched, and exhaled. "Great, now I'm going to have to call in Hiei or something."

Her heart shot into her throat, breaking the lock on her breathing, and suddenly she was hyperventilating. Hiei? Was that another member of his Japanese gang? Oh no, he was probably going to saw off her head. He really was a mob member. She pulled her inhaler to her lips and sucked in a couple puffs desperately. If things kept going at this rate, she's need a refill in just another hour.

"Hey, relax, okay?" Yusuke's voice lowered to an almost soft pitch. He outstretched his left hand—something was clenched in his right—and moved towards her.

Grace jumped back and pointed at him, her finger wavering. No words came, just gulps of air.

"Listen, Grace or whatever your name is, relax, okay? Let me explain—"

She turned and shot out of the alley.

"Hey! Hey! Get the hell back here!" Yusuke hollered behind her. She kicked up her feet, pressing into the ground with her toes and dashing into the air like she used to on the track. Home—that was the finish line. Only here, now, a trophy wasn't at stake. Now it was her life.

She heard a drumming behind her, and she pressed harder into the ground. Yusuke was tailing her. She knew the feeling of a runner closing in on her. She found a tighter rhythm, a faster one, and threw herself into it.

"Hey! Get back here!" He barked again. "What the hell? Would you just listen?"

Grace nearly screamed as she saw him come up beside her. His teeth were bared; his eyes hot and annoyed. She swallowed the scream with a great inhale and threw her messenger bag off. The additional weight eased, she pulled ahead, clutching her inhaler desperately.

"THE HELL!" Yusuke's voice was beginning to fade. She didn't relax, but pushed harder as she caught the tail end of his next complaint. "What the heck are you, a demon?"

Red demon. Made sense somehow.

Her head scrambled as she pushed harder and harder, sweat plastering over every inch of her skin. Her chest heaved and her legs burned as she left Yusuke behind. The world tilted to the left, to the right—swirled. She panted and worked herself until she could feel her muscles splitting apart. Her legs were begging for mercy. Her lungs were wringing themselves dry. The back of her throat was scorching. The wind tore at the soft skin of her face.

She couldn't stop. Not now.

Her knees groaned and popped as she turned into her neighborhood. She chanced a look over her shoulder. No sign of Yusuke. No sign of those dark eyes or that wicked, mischievous, murderous smile.

She turned into her driveway, her skin suddenly boiling. The wind had raped her skin; she was tingling and sticky. She pushed herself up the porch steps and locked the door behind her. Her heavy breaths echoed in the entryway.

She tried to call for her dad, but her throat was torn in the back by the cold. She stumbled into the living room, found the stairs, and collapsed on them. Her elbows threatened to break as she crawled her way up to the second floor, pulled herself inside her room, kicked the door shut, and lay trembling on the floor.

She closed her eyes. What was she going to do? Call the police, she reasoned. She had witnessed a murder. Would they believe her? Yusuke might clean up the site by the time she did. She needed to call them right away, then. They could protect her from him, right?

A knock rumbled up from downstairs. Grace's eyes shot open.

Slow footsteps. Her dad's. Then the bellowing creak of the front door.

"Hey, does some girl named Grace live here? I need to talk to her."

Grace felt her throat close up as Yusuke's voice invaded her house.

* * *

**A/N **

**Well, how's that for a first chapter? I know it's not much of an appearance for the Rekai Tentai, but they're coming, promise :)**

_Sneak Peak:_

_"Please," She whispered. Her lungs squeezed with the effort to expel the word. "Please don't."_

_She tried to figure out what else to say. She couldn't promise not to tell—she already had. And she couldn't play the innocent child card, because really, she wasn't. There was nothing she could do but stare up into the ruby glint above, hoping against hope that somehow the malignant shadow would show mercy. _


	2. Shadows Plotting

**A/N**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed so far. It means a lot to me-more than I can say. As a thank you, here is the second chapter of The American Files: Grace Angeram. I hope you enjoy it as much as the last!**

**(A special thanks to those who reviewed: _Dice, M. N. Marquette, CeresMaria, mezvers, and Biku-sensei_. Your comments had me smiling and laughing. I'd thank all those who have followed and favorited too, but that might take awhile. Instead, I'll simply say thank you; seeing the messages in my inbox warmed my heart.)**

* * *

Chapter 2—Shadows Plotting

Grace's mouth opened as the echo of Yusuke Urameshi's voice crawled up the stairs. She tried to pull her voice out of her chest, but it was stuck. _No, dad!_ She screamed in her mind. How would he know to shut the door in his face? What if he let him in?

"Who wants to know?" Her dad said congenially, but she could almost feel his suspicion. She threw her head back against the carpet and let out a sigh. Thank goodness—he was in touch with the world at the moment.

"I'm Yusuke Urameshi. I go to her school."

_And I'm a psychotic murderer_, Grace finished in her head, and clutched the carpet fibers between her fingers. A few strings caught on the chips in her nails.

"Yusuke, huh?" Her dad's voice dropped a pitch. Less congenial. He was going into Overprotective Dad mode. A mode she had rarely ever seen. "You're the transfer student from Japan?"

"Um, yeah, actually." There was the slightest pause. "Can I talk to her?"

Grace rolled a little, getting nearer to her door to hear better. Her limbs were as limp as a stuffed doll's.

"I'm afraid not, son." He sounded less like her dad, and more like Mr. Angeram now. "I've heard a lot about you from my daughter and I can say in no uncertain terms that you are not welcome in this house. Good bye."

The door hinges whined, long and loud, before suddenly cutting off. Grace's heart jumped back into her throat, crouching, waiting.

"Listen old man, I don't want this to get ugly, but I have no problem beating you down if I have to."

She went white as a sheet. Time for the police.

Grace threw herself up and struggled toward her bed. She leaned on the thick mattress and, shaking as she did, picked up the house phone. She could hear the arguing escalating downstairs; her fingers trembled as she darted in the three necessary digits.

It took too long for the call to go through, but she babbled and hurled out the story the moment she heard a voice on the line. The person tried to throw in questions, but she pushed passed the mature voice and listed out the location of the murder, and her address, her dad's name and her own, and Yusuke Urameshi's.

"Back _down, GRANDPA_!" Yusuke's voice rattled through her from downstairs. "I don't want to break your face but I will if you keep getting in my way!"

The person on the other line apparently heard. "I've dispatched a squad. They'll be there in under a minute."

"Thank you," She wheezed, and let the phone drop onto the receiver. She was so glad she had talked her dad out of getting rid of the home phone too. She could just imagined being stranded here like this, cornered by a crazy, Japanese gang member.

A crash sounded from downstairs. Her fingertips went ice cold and she turned her head slowly, like it was made of stone, to look over her shoulder.

"Gracie!" Her dad's voice was loud and terrified.

A crack from below. Then thumping came from the stairs. She dropped to the ground and, almost instinctually, shoved herself under the bed. Her bedroom door flew open.

Her breathing was too loud. Surely he could hear it. Grace ignored the lint and touched her chin to the ground, placing her hands over her mouth. She was getting dizzy again—her lungs were squeezing. She needed her inhaler. She needed air. She needed the police.

His shoes moved about her room. She curled herself into a ball. _Give up_, she thought hard, like it would make it real. _I'm not here, I'm not here_.

He swore lightly. His tone wasn't exactly angry, like she expected it to be. It was just annoyed. She heard a grumbled sigh before he paced back towards her door. There was a clicking noise, a touch of static, and then a voice completely unfamiliar.

"What's the problem, Yusuke?" The voice sounded like it was coming from a device. Kind of crackly, like a phone with a bad signal. "Have you taken care of the demon or not?"

Her heart tumbled down her throat and plummeted into her stomach. Oh no. He had contacted his gang already. Now her dad would be in danger too. Where the heck were the police?

"Calm down, baby breath." Yusuke said. "You're stupid human trafficker's wasted in an alleyway. Now listen, I've got a problem. Some American girl saw me taking him out and now I can't find her."

"WHAT?" The audio crackled with the screech. "You lost her? Oh great, dad's going to give me a million spankings for this one."

"Geez, calm down Koenma! Just send Hiei over and he'll wipe her mind and we can all go have a freakin' picnic back in Japan, okay?"

There was a pause. Grace listened to the light static, her hands growing moist with her breath, and tried to compute the conversation to memory. She needed to tell the cops this. But—what? Spankings, demons? It had to be code. Demons must have been their rival gang or something. And now the gang leader was going to send someone to "wipe her memory"? With what, a lead pipe? She swallowed a hysteric scream and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Easier said than done, Yusuke. How am I supposed to convince him to go all the way to America? I can hardly get him to report to me in Spirit World!"

What was with all the funny names? And why bother importing someone from Japan when they could pay off someone here to take her head to a saw? She bit her bottom lip. The taste of hot metal erupted in her mouth, but she ignored it.

"Yeah, yeah. Just threaten to tell Yukina about them being brother and sister, that ought to do it. If not, I'll fly back and force him here myself." Yusuke drawled, pacing about. Heavy knocks sounded from below. "Crap. Police. The old man must have gotten to a phone—thought I knocked him out cold.

_Dad! _Grace chewed through the blood on her lip. She was starting to sweat again; her stomach was turning with the heat.

"How about you ask Hiei? He never listens to me." The other person murmured.

"Grow a pair, would yah toddler?" Yusuke shouted. A large crack came from below—Grace jumped. Yusuke's feet swiveled. "Got to go, Koenma. And you can probably remove my records from the school, I think it's safe to say I'm not going back there." Another click. The pounding of feet. Yusuke sighed and ran to the other side of her bed. He was trying for the window, then.

Grace tried to wriggle out by the door. The police! She had to tell them everything she'd heard—find her dad, make sure he was alright. Tears burned her eyes as her breathing became sparse. Suddenly, something caught her ankle, and she screamed as she flew back under the bed and out the other side.

Yusuke swore again, "You are way too hard to find." He was pouting a little, annoyed still.

"Put your hands in the air!" A burly voice called. Grace sucked in oxygen as she listened to the sound of guns cocking. "Now!"

Yusuke held onto her ankle and looked up. He didn't even bat an eye. "Come on, seriously?" He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Hell."

"Hands in the air!" The police hollered again. "Now!"

Yusuke let her ankle go and lifted his hands lamely, frowning and moving to the side. Closer to the window. Grace opened her mouth to warn the police, but the next moment he was blurring out the window—how did he unlock it that fast?—and her mouth was posed around useless words. The police threw themselves forward, two leaning out the small frame at once, guns extended. Grace winced and curled into herself, hands pressed to her ears, as shots rang out. They were explosions in her inner ear. She felt sick. She was going to vomit.

"Enough!" One of them shouted. It sounded like a woman, but Grace couldn't be sure with her head still ringing. "He's gone. Get someone on the ground after him—" Shoes turned near her head. Then the popping of knees. A hand touched her arm and she jumped. "Grace Angeram?"

She nodded and rolled slowly to meet the gaze of a dark-skinned, female police officer. She placed a hand on Grace's shoulder, steadily, and met her in the eyes.

The woman helped her downstairs. Everything was still swirling. She kept trying to say, "Inhaler," and, "Dad," but her mouth wasn't working anymore. She swallowed hard as the officer sat her down on the couch in her living room, and kneeled in front of her. She met her in the eyes again, steady again, and tried for a smile.

"I know a lot's just happened to you," She said slowly, giving her time to digest, "But I need you to tell me everything you can remember."

She had paid strict attention so she could do just that. She sucked back the horror and tears. Her lips finally separated, but when the words finally flowed, all she could say was, "Dad. My dad. Where is he?"

The officer searched her eyes, turned her head, and hollered for another police officer. A young, wiry man came over. They said things. Grace knew they were saying important things, but that's all it looked like to her—words, things, stuff. She bit at her lip again. Dad. Where was her dad?

The tears built in her eyes as she tried to force them back. She couldn't lose another parent. She couldn't do it.

The woman turned back to her and smiled, placing her hands on her knees reassuringly. "He's fine. He's unconscious, but the medic says he's fine—just a bruise on the back of his head is all."

She let out a strangled breath and bowed her head. Her ponytail fell over her shoulders with a heavy tug. Thank goodness. She pictured his silhouette against the afternoon sun—the stained pajama shirt, the cracked laptop, his glass of chocolate milk and occasional bag of cheez-puffs—and relaxed a small amount. She'd see that again. She'd still have someone left.

"Grace. Grace, I need you to look at me."

She obediently raised her head.

The officer smiled again. "Now, can you tell me what exactly happened?"

It took her a couple moments, but Grace managed to relay everything her scattered mind could hold onto. The blast in the alley, the pool of (purple?) blood, Yusuke coming after her when she ran, him assaulting her dad, rushing into her room, talking to what she was sure was the gang leader on some sort of phone. Everything she could gather, she spat right out, and waited as the officer loaded the information into her brain. The woman took out a notebook when her brain must not have been able to suffice, and jotted down key points until she finally finished the tale.

"Sounds like a lot to go through in one day." The officer stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

She licked the wounded place in her lip. "My inhaler. My bag."

"Do you know where they are?"

She scrunched her eyes closed. Think, think. "Inhaler's probably in my room. I dropped my bag when I was running home."

"I'll see what I can do." The woman left and traveled upstairs. The crackling of walkie-talkies grew louder in her absence.  
The woman brought back her inhaler and promised to keep an eye out for her bag. Soon, most of the police trailed away, out of her peripheral vision like seeds caught on the wind. Night slowly sunk in through the windows. Grace stayed on the couch, hands on her knees, breath roiling around in her head.

The female police officer stayed, along with her partner—a dark haired young man with a wide face. They said something about watching over the house overnight to keep her and her dad safe. Grace didn't respond. They left through the front door to stake out the place in their car. She waited.

Her dad roused at nearly ten o' clock. He muttered something about needing to finish the new website layout, along with a few email addresses that were probably imperative. Grace ignored him and helped him up the stairs to bed. The master bedroom looked like something from a furniture ad. Everything was clean, untouched. Frozen in time. For the first time in months, her dad slept in the bed. Grace left without looking at the rows of female clothes gathering dust in the open closet, or the makeup still left out on the vanity.

She wandered down stairs. She didn't want to go in her room. On the couch she found the remote, gathered her dad's Lord of the Rings blanket around her until she was cocooned, and turned on Star Trek: The Next Generation. She fell asleep to the sound of Picard warring with the Borg—the sound of her childhood.

**O.O.O.O**

It was too warm. Grace struggled against the blanket holding her hostage, struggling for breath, and pushed until her shoulders were uncovered. Once the air hit, she could feel how wet her tank top now was. It smelled hot and salty, like her sweat. She licked her lips and slowly peered into the darkness.

Grace blinked several times. Everything had a purple hue. The room was dissolving, bit by bit, into mush. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against the fog, and opened her eyes again. Something was in front of her. She narrowed her eyes to cut through the purple. Night didn't usually look like this. Had her dad come down and plugged in her alien night light? She couldn't even remember the last time she'd seen that thing. And her dad was hopeless at finding . . .

Her eyes finally adjusted, and she found a pair of legs into front of her. Shining black fabric rippled in the darkness. She glanced up. Her head was starting to ache. She caught sight of and elbow, and the pale luminescent form of a hand extended towards her.

She bolted back and screamed. Another hand shot over her mouth, pressing her to the couch. _Yusuke_. He'd snuck passed the police! His free hand came over her forehead. The world grew blurrier. Her eyes wandered up, pressing against the film of dark purple coming over her, and found the obscure highlights of a pale face.

Only one eye was visible through the shadows and haze. Grace struggled to breathe. Her lungs were seizing. Where was her inhaler? Where were the police? The eye flickered, caught the light, and burned red in the dark.

"It'll be over in a moment, human." A deep, ethereal voice scratched through the darkness.

The voice was convincing. Grace felt her shoulders relaxing, but the panic wouldn't ease in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it away. That wasn't Yusuke's voice. It had to be the person he'd called for—Hiei?—the gang member. Oh, no. He was going to "wipe her." She'd be nothing but a splatter by morning.

She thrust her tongue out her mouth and slobbered. The hand pulled back slightly as a sound of disgust fell through the dark. The purple dissolved into the shadows. The hand started to come back. Grace opened her mouth and bit down hard on the thumb.

"Stupid ningen!" The voice hissed, and the hand jerked. Grace screamed as she went flying, her feet throwing themselves over her head as her spine groaned. She flipped, her head catching the floor, and her weight yanked her body off the armrest, onto the ground.

She scrambled for safety. If she could get outside, she could alert the police officers standing guard. But in an instant, her plans were shot. Suddenly she was upright, caught in a brace of two thick, muscles arms, and trapped against a hard chest.

"Please!" She coughed up. "Please, just leave me alone!"

The arms didn't move an inch with her struggling. A deep, annoyed sigh fluttered through her ponytail. "Pathetic."

A burn flashed through her wrists, up her shoulders, and clouded her brain. Pathetic? Her mind raced back a year, finding purchase on the tarmac track she used to train on. She breathed a current of victory through her asthmatic lungs.

She wasn't pathetic. She was a hawk.

She threw her head back. The arms swiveled around her, the person dodging her backwards blow, and she slid her legs between his. She thrust up with her knee. The arms unlocked, the carpet hissed with the turning of his feet, until she was dangling by one arm in his hold. She threw her inertia toward the ground. The hand clung on to her, began to pull her weight up, until she let her feet slide and swung down into the arch of his legs. His balance was disrupted. She aimed a kick at his ankle—where she thought it was in the dark—when suddenly her arm wrenched out of its socket and she was soaring through the air. She screamed. Her head bounced off the back of the couch's marshmallow cushions.

"Enough games!" The voice seethed in the darkness. The hand returned to her forehead. "Relent, ningen. If you had any sense you'd see you're hopelessly outmatched."

She trembled under the strength of his hand. It felt like she was pinned by a boulder, he pressed so hard. She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her head aching, slamming, burning.

"Mom," She gasped hard. She could nearly feel the soft, delicate fingers of her mother slide over her dangling hand.

The pressure eased slightly. Grace opened her eyes, found a red pair burning out from the darkness. A purple light was emanating just half an inch above them. The gang banger's fingers eased around her hairline, though she could feel his grip still was not to be resisted.

Reasoning, she thought desperately. Maybe she could reason with him.

Gently, so he wouldn't think she was trying to start something, she took his wrist in her hands. She felt the muscles tense up his entire arm. He pressed harder again and she winced. Her head started to ache again.

"Please," She whispered. Her lungs squeezed with the effort to expel the word. "Please don't."

She tried to figure out what else to say. She couldn't promise not to tell—she already had. And she couldn't play the innocent child card, because really, she wasn't. There was nothing she could do but stare up into the ruby glint above, hoping against hope that somehow the malignant shadow would show mercy.

"Hn," there was a light scoff. The eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to hurt you, fool. Just lay there and be quiet, and it will be over in a moment."

_No_, her heart raced until the pace strangled her airways. He wasn't going to hurt her—he was going to rape her.

The purple light burned brighter, an eerie star in the night. "Fool. I wouldn't sully myself with the likes of you."

His words didn't compute. Grace burst into tears, the kind that were dry in her eyes and collected in her throat. She tried to breathe; her lungs refused. _Air_, she thought desperately. She tried to peek out the corner of her eye for her inhaler. It must be on the coffee table. It seemed so far away now. _Can't breathe_.

A pause ran through the tension in the shadow's arm. It pulled out of her shaking fingers, letting her head at ease. Grace threw herself off the couch, hands flying everywhere, desperate for the touch of the cool plastic contraption. Her head was melting. She could feel the air leaving her, letting her chest starve in desperation. _Air_, she tried to force her chest to expand, but it seemed her ribs were shrinking, forcing her lungs into a cage.

Something dropped onto her shoulder. "There." The voice said, without feeling. "Take it, weakling, before you pass out at my feet."

She caught the clattering object. Her inhaler! She pressed it into her mouth and took two puffs. Her ribs broke apart, releasing her lungs, and her throat relaxed to let the air through. She collapsed back against the couch, shaking with relief.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Hn." A blank, uncaring reply. "A dead body would be inconvenient. Don't mistake my intentions."

He said it with the barest hint of a threat, but her heart was beating safely, and she could breathe. Despite reason and terror, she felt safer—almost at ease. He couldn't be too much of a threat if he handed her the inhaler instead of letting the asthma attack do the job for him. He must have been sent to shake her up, keep her quiet.

"Listen," She whispered, hand still tight around her inhaler. "I can't promise not to tell anyone about what Yusuke did, because I already have. The police are already on the case." It occurred to her a moment later that she might have just given him actual reason to kill her.

"I could care less." The voice prowled through the dark; hungry like an animal, but also lazy, like a lion watching a lesser threat in the distance. He was above worry. "I'm here for one purpose, and you're making it far more annoying than it needs to be. Just hold still and let me do my job so I can get out of this disgusting human world."

What, more gang code? She rubbed her forehead. It felt like it was bruised. "Yusuke sent you to "wipe me," right? You're the guy who does the dirty work?"

"Tsk," The sound was a level above boredom now. Sounded like she might have hit a nerve. "I don't do anyone's dirty work. I have a debt to pay, and that is all."

"What debt?" Keeping him talking, she thought. If she could relax him, maybe he wouldn't break out whatever he needed to "wipe her," and let her go.

"Don't attempt to distract me, woman. It's none of your concern." His hand shot out and took her forehead again. "Hold still. I'm not going to hurt you."

Grace obeyed. She clutched her inhaler, her mind whirling, trying to understand and not be so afraid. She was tired of so much fear. She just wanted to stand and shout. Shout that she was brave, that she was capable, that she wasn't alone—that, and all the other lies she had clung to over the past year.

What's going on? Grace swallowed thickly as the night before her glazed over. Tingles spread through her temples, burrowed beneath her skin. The shadow's hand felt hot against her forehead. She felt herself roll back in her own mind, falling into her own thoughts with abandon.

Gray eyes opened around her, a smile threading itself beneath them. As she fell, arms gathered her up and slowed her descent. Blue fabric weaved itself a body and collected skin until her mother was crooning around her, the soft strands of her long blond hair sweeping over her cheeks.

Grace opened her eyes. "Mom." She smiled.

Suddenly, she was wrenched back into reality with a sickening lurch. She fell forward, on her hands and knees, panting and shaking as her forehead burned. Tears spilled out her left eye as she lifted a hand to touch her forehead. She hissed as the skin screamed and cracked under her small stroke. A sound like a mouse choking came from her mouth.

She heard footsteps near her ear. They were stumbling, retreating.

"What was that?" She gasped out, raising her head. She touched the place between her eyebrows hesitantly. She winced as the shiny, smooth surface sent a firework of pain through her body.

There was no answer. Just the stilling of footsteps. Grace raised herself off her hands and sat back on her legs. She scanned the carpet until she caught the highlighted curve of a black shoe.

"What do you want?" She whispered.

There was a hard breath. She nearly winced at the sound. It was furious, vengeful—vulnerable?

"Listen ningen," the voice spat out from the blackness, "if you want to live you will keep quiet. Yusuke Urameshi never existed, you saw nothing, and I never stepped into your home. Understand."

Her arms shook in terrible hope. She nodded quickly. "Yes. I understand."

"Hn." The hand returned, but on her shoulder this time. She stumbled as it pulled her up to stand. "You so much as breathe a word of this to another soul, and I'll find you and slice you into a thousand pieces."

Grace felt her voice crumble against the walls of her throat as the shine of a blade tore through the night. She looked up, found the red eyes, and nodded hard.

He sounded like he was sneering. "Good. Now return to your bed and forget all of this."

She didn't wait for further motivation. The moment he loosened his grip, she dashed through the living room, barely staying upright as she tripped into the lamp and the side of the door, and crawled upstairs. She heard a breeze downstairs—probably the man escaping through the window—but didn't bother looking back. Her hands found her doorframe and she pulled herself inside, away from all the confusion.

* * *

**A/N**

**And another member of the Rekai Tentai revealed! And he's my personal favorite, although that's probably obvious by now. :) Feel free to tell me what you think! Constructive Criticism is warmly welcomed, and compliments adored. But I'm on a flame-free diet for the next rest of my life, so try and control yourselves. ;) hahah**

_Sneak Peak:_

_She frowned up at the two of them. The girl must be in on it after all. "I don't know what the heck you two are getting at, but leave me alone!" She leaned toward them, hissing it like a threat she couldn't back up. "I have enough to deal with without you and your psychotic shadow guy coming in and screwing with it. I can't help you, and I promised not to spill anymore of your secrets, got it? That's all I can do. Period." She turned on her heel and headed for the door._

_Yusuke caught her by the elbow. She almost tripped as he turned her around and met her in the eyes. "Sorry," he said, face serious and dangerous, "but obviously my _psychotic shadow guy_ forgot to finish you up right, so you're gonna need to come with me." He began pulling her towards the back exit._


	3. Power Plays

**A/N**

**Hey all! Another large, fluffy thank you to all those who reviewed: CeresMaria (you're so funny! XD), Heve-chan ****(welcome back! :D And thanks, I was happy about getting published too), dani1014 (you reviewed both chapters! Thank you! And I'm so glad you liked it all :D), mezvers (I really appreciate that so much; I've been making a real effort to write at my top form and not be lazy), and Dice (I'm so happy to hear you feel that way. Thank you!). **

**Really, I can't tell you how much your reviews mean to me. As long as you review, I promise I will always update. Feel free to tell me anything! **

* * *

Chapter 3—Power Play

"Okay, no, that is _so_ not going to cut it." Annie set her hands on her hips, her mouth tugging downwards on one side as her eyes lit with fury. "You can't just say "I don't know," when there are police patrolling your house!"

Grace rubbed her palms on her knees nervously. She wanted to scratch at the itchy edge of the band aid on her forehead, but she didn't want Annie to see it. So far, she'd managed to keep it hidden behind her bangs. She hated hiding things from her best friend, but there was no way she was going to be able to explain a palm-shaped burn mark on her forehead without breaking her promise to the shadow.

In the bright sun of the morning, she had to wonder if anything from yesterday had really happened. But the police were still patrolling her house, and her forehead really was burned. She thought back to the shadow. That's all she could say to explain him—shadow. Red eyes? A burning hand? A hidden blade? She hadn't seen anything more than that. What was he, anyway? Some professional scare-the-witness-to-death guy? Grace wipes her sweaty palms down her pants again. She'd been afraid of a lot in the past year, but nothing compared with this guy—this _thing_. Even knowing she had the police on her side, patrolling her home, keeping her safe, wasn't enough to open her mouth and tell a soul more than she had already let slip. She could almost feel the shadow watching her, an ever-present, ever-open eye against the burn on her forehead.

"_Grace_!" Annie's voice skidded into her thoughts.

She looked up. "What?"

Annie's cheeks were almost as red as her hair. She shook her head, hands still on her hips, as worry dug deep lines between her eyebrows. "What's wrong, Gracie? You've been out of it all day, police are standing guard around your house, and what—you don't know _why_? What the heck aren't you telling me?" She looked at her desperately.

There was nothing Grace wanted more than to explode and tell her everything. But she could feel that gaze of the shadow, like a hot fog against the length of her spine. She shook her head slowly.

"I don't know what's happening to me." She mumbled. She turned sideways and lay down into her bed. Her eyelids drooped. "I'm sorry, Ann. 'm not feeling well . . . ."

Annie huffed, shaking her head sadly, and sat down behind her on the bed. She stroked her hair. "Just . . . don't be afraid to tell me stuff, Gracie. You know I'd never hurt you, right? Ten years should have proved that to you."

Grace let her eyes close. Don't be afraid, huh? She told herself that every time she lined up in gym, every time she looked at her inhaler. Every time she looked at a photo of her mom.

Now, she said it to herself every time she exhaled. In, out, don't be afraid. In, out, don't be afraid.

Annie nudged her shoulder and peeled her out of a shallow sleep. "Come on, why don't we get out of here?" She jumped in the bed, gasping with excitement, "Oh! I'll drive us to Pinkie's Coldslab! Mm, I can taste their kiwi rush sundae already."

Grace stared at the fluffy rug at her bedside until Annie's shoes stepped onto it. "Come on, Grace. Let's go! You love that place."

Annie herded her out the door, and Grace let her. Her dad stopped them on the way out, questioning them, and nodded slowly as Annie explained. He paused before letting them go still, checking Grace's expression. She tried to smile, but couldn't manage to make it look right, and abandoned it instead. Her dad's worried expression, borrowed from his Bilbo Baggans mode, burned in her eyes as she loaded into Annie's borrowed, red minivan and let herself be taken away from it all.

Grace licked through her raspberry ice-cream cone with about as much excitement as road kill. Annie was doing most of the talking; it wasn't entirely unusual, really, but Grace felt different sitting on Pinkie's patio with raspberry delight dripping down into the cracks of her fingers than she had just a week before. When she looked at Annie, she felt miles away. She might have been watching a movie in the theatres, sitting in the back row, munching on popcorn brought from home.

Grace started as she realized Annie was staring at her. The red-head's face had finally fallen. It was serious again; the mood defied the bright sun hanging above them in the vast blue sky.

"Grace," Annie whispered. "What is it? Did . . . did Yusuke do something to you?"

Grace blinked. "No." That was all she could manage.

She dropped her spoon, forgoing the satisfaction of her kiwi rush sundae. "Then what?" She said. Her eyes reddened. "_What_?"

Grace turned away. She couldn't bear seeing Annie like that. Why wasn't she telling her? Yeah, right, a shadow threatening her? How stupid was she? Maybe the stuff with Yusuke really happened, but the shadow? And come on, how would he or it know if she told Annie anyway? It's not like it was the devil or something. Yeah, a real red demon. She started to smile. Yeah, right.

She turned back to Annie, smiling, and opened her mouth. She was ready. She wouldn't be afraid.

She froze. The raspberry delight slipped straight through her hand, and let out a mushy crunch as it hit the ground. Annie's face contorted, growing even more worried, before she turned to comb through the crowd milling about the sidewalk for what gripped her attention.

Grace almost hid under the table. Annie wouldn't find him on the sidewalk. He was nestled in the tree a few feet away, melding into the shadows, two sharp, intense red eyes peering out through the leaves. She bit down on her lip. The scab gave way and blood filled the lines of her lips.

_How_? She screamed in her head. _Why_?

Annie turned back. Grace didn't even look at her as she said, "What? I—oh my gosh, Grace, you're bleeding! Stop biting your lip, you're going to rip it in half.

The eyes above narrowed. Grace let her lip go, swallowed, and nodded. Annie breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't know she was actually nodding at the shadow.

"What was that for, anyway?" Annie leaned to glance at the fallen raspberry delight. "Did you see a streaker or something?"

Grace let out a hollow laugh. "No. Just someone I thought I knew."

"And they made you drop your ice cream?" Annie lowered a single brow. "Seriously, Grace, something's up that you're not telling me. What is it?"

"I can't." She squeezed out. Her eyes darted up. The red eyes narrowed. She swallowed hard. "Please, Annie, I can't."

"Why not?" Her voice lowered, respecting the intensity she detected, and leaned closer.

Grace closed her eyes and shook her head. "Please, just . . . I can't. When I can, I will. Promise."

Annie leaned back in her seat, fiddling with her spoon and stabbing at a couple slices of kiwi near the top of her sundae. "Fine." She murmured, softly. "Just . . . remember I'm here for you, okay? When you decide to trust me."

Grace let her head drop in her hands, before pulling back and wincing. The Band-Aid had rubbed against the burn. She paused before peeking up through her fingers. One second the eyes were there, the next they were gone. Had she blinked them away? A knot formed in her throat.

"Well, you want another one?" Annie's voice pulled Grace's eyes back down from the tree. "I mean, you just wasted a perfectly good desert."

She let herself smile. "Yeah. But I'll pay for it this time, okay?"

They usually took turns paying when they went out. Last time they went to the movies to moon over Robert Downey Jr. in that last super hero movie, Grace had paid for the tickets. Thus it was Annie's responsibility to spoil them with ice-cream this time. However, considering Pinkie's prices, Grace thought it was only fair to mend the situation herself.

Annie pouted. "You don't have to. It's my turn, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Grace stood and headed for the glass doors as a few people trailed inside. "But I don't mind. Dad just gave me my allowance on Wednesday."

She walked inside and let the bell on the door tinkle behind her. She assumed her place in line, glancing around at the gaudy, 50's Hollywood themed decorations. Some of the autographed pictures of celebrities looked so fake, she was surprised Pinkie hadn't been sued.

As she neared the front of the line, a crude voice caught her ear and she turned to look at the booths in a shady corner near the back. She frowned. There were two people sitting there, arguing in only partially hushed tones. One looked completely unfamiliar, though hardly inconspicuous. She had blue hair, for goodness sakes. Though Grace had to admit, it was the best dye-job she'd ever seen. Her hair still looked silky and ran down her back in a ponytail with all the grace of a waterfall, despite how much she must have fried her hair with bleach in order to get that shade of baby blue. Her hands were extended, her mouth going at a million miles an hour, her eyes wide and frustrated.

Grace felt a bubble of laughter stir in her chest. Ah, a break up. She never understood why people went out in public to break up. She sure hadn't when she and David split up last year. She frowned a little as her mind visited the day. She cut off the thought with a shake of her head. They had still managed to get along fine after it, as she had done it with tact and kindness, and he had always been a pretty good sport. No reason to revisit it. Still, it had been a shame. If she wasn't such a scardey cat, maybe they might still be together, sitting here in Pinkie's Coldslab with matching cones topped with raspberry delight.

Someone barked out something. Grace looked over at the couple again, and found her eyes focusing on the back of the head of the blue-haired chick's soon-to-be ex. His hair was heavy black, slicked back, like he had been inspired by the décor and decided to revisit earth's most disastrous hair styles. She almost laughed, but stopped herself as something cold reach up her sternum. That stupid haircut—she knew it from somewhere.

The blue haired girl frowned and face-palmed, clearly exasperated. The boy turned as a waiter walked by.

The scream came out without her knowledge. It was short, quick, but high-pitched. Everyone stopped and looked at her. Some moved on when they saw she was fine, but the boy's eyes found her, widened, and filled with mild exasperation.

Yusuke Urameshi.

"Oh, hey Grace—" He stood up and came towards her.

She stumbled out of line, falling back into the soda fountain.

People were starting to look again. Yusuke slowed his pace and let his movements become more casual, rested. The girl in the booth stood and followed him. People caught onto the easy-going feeling he exuded, and turned away, censoring her terror.

"Easy," Yusuke murmured as he neared. His voice was low, but almost comforting.

She swallowed her fear with a great lump of stale saliva. Slowly, as he came to a stop a foot or so from her, she unfolded herself and stood to full height. At five two it wasn't much, but it was enough. The blue haired girl came up just behind him, blinking her wide eyes.

"Oh?" The girl looked at Yusuke. "Is this her? The classmate you mentioned?"

"Yeah, that's her." Yusuke murmured, his eyes not wavering as they latched onto her own. "So how you doin', Grace? That essay in history bites, huh?"

What was with the small talk? She felt for the inhaler in her pocket, found it, and let out the smallest sigh of relief. He can't hurt me here, she told herself. Still, knowing it was there helped.

"Yeah." She said. "Hard to make the Industrial Age more boring than it already is, but she managed."

A huge, goofy grin spread over his face. "Say, sorry for being such a pri—"The girl shot him a look so he sighed and rephrased, "—jerk for the past couple months. You just remind me of this girl back home and hey, I got homesick."

She frowned. Oh, so now he was sucking up to her? He already sent his professional psycho, the shadow, to threaten her last night. What the heck was he getting at?

She stepped closer and dropped her voice. "What do you want?"

He looked surprised. "Huh?"

"Drop the act!" She gritted her teeth. "I already promised your shadow I won't say a word, so why are you making small talk? The police are after you and I can't help it, but I won't say anything more. I won't talk about your crazy gang member shadow guy—" the girl behind him gasped and put her hands over her mouth; Yusuke was staring down at her like he'd never seen her before, "—or how he broke into my house, or burnt me, or anything. Didn't he tell you? So just please leave me and my dad alone. Okay?"

It occurred to her bringing it up wasn't the wisest thing she had ever done. And it looked like the girl with blue hair hadn't been in on the whole "Japanese gang" thing either, so she had probably just finished the break-up scene for them. She took a hesitant step back as Yusuke's eyes narrowed. He didn't seem mad, though. Just concentrated. Like he did when he stared at that place just above the right corner of the board in class.

Yusuke shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "Gang huh?" His face lit with an ironic smile. "No wonder you've been freaking out. You think I'm in a gang." Then he busted up laughing. The girl behind him frowned to one side in worry, tapping her fingers together like she was trying to solve a math problem in her head.

Grace clenched her fists. "_You killed someone_!" Her voice was low enough that its belly scathed the floor. "I saw it, and you can't deny it!"

Yusuke let his laughter slow into nonexistence. He stared at her soberly. Grace thought the expression rivaled even the shadow's. "Just listen to me for a sec, alright? I know what you thought you saw, but it's really not what it looks like." He paused before knocking on his temple with a chuckle. "Man, that sounds so cheesy! No one ever believes that line."

"Yusuke!" The girl said. "Be serious!" She turned to look at her, and for the first time, Grace realized something was wrong with her eyes. At first she'd thought they were violet, but she realized she'd been mistaken. They were brighter than that—almost pink? She blinked several times. Yes, they were pink.

What was wrong with her? A red-eyed shadow, and now a blue-haired, pink-eyed girl? Maybe she really hadn't seen Yusuke kill someone. Maybe she was just going insane.

"Poor thing must be terrified," The girl said sympathetically, and drew even with Yusuke. "My name's Botan, it's very nice to meet you. I'm so sorry about all this, you must be so confused. Usually our boys do a much better job keeping all this supernatural stuff out of human affairs, but nobody's perfect!" She chirped, animating her speech with bright hand gestures, before extracting one and extending it for a shake.

Grace looked at it. No way was she falling for that one. She frowned up at the two of them. The girl must be in on it after all. "I don't know what the heck you two are getting at, but leave me alone!" She leaned toward them, hissing it like a threat she couldn't back up. "I have enough to deal with without you and your psychotic shadow guy coming in and screwing with it. I can't help you, and I promised not to spill anymore of your secrets, got it? That's all I can do. Period." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Yusuke caught her by the elbow. She almost tripped as he turned her around and met her in the eyes. "Sorry," he said, face serious and dangerous, "but obviously my _psychotic shadow_ guy forgot to finish you up right, so you're gonna need to come with me." He began pulling her towards the back exit.

"Yusuke, don't handle her like that." Botan nagged as she came up beside him. "You're going to make her think we're going to kill her or something. Just look at that face." She turned and looked back at her, blue eyebrows upturned.

Grace wasn't sure what her face looked like, but it felt pale and tight. Yusuke glanced over her shoulder, and pink and brown eyes wandered over her. He didn't pause as he yanked her out the back door.

"Not like she's going to remember any of it in a minute anyway. Geez Botan, get off my back." He turned forward and dragged her behind the building.

Grace scrambled away the moment he let go. She was stuck between him, the girl, and the dumpster. She chose the dumpster, and plastered herself against it, eyes darting about for any sort of option for escape.

Yusuke started cleaning his ear again. "You can stop freaking out, it's not like I'm going to kill you." He flicked something off his finger and she had to resist a disgusted grimace. He looked at her and grinned. It was laced with mischief. "But I am going to call out my psychotic shadow guy." He busted up laughing again. "Man, wait 'til Hiei hears that. I can just see his face." He kept laughing.

Botan swatted his ear. "Yusuke, please! If you're going to wipe her memory get it over with so she doesn't have to tremble over there like a lamb at the slaughter." She turned to her, clasping her hands together, and smiled sadly. "What a dear, it's really a shame."

"You don't have to." Grace said. She leapt at the sympathy in Botan's absurd, pink eyes. "Please, I promised already. I _promised_." Her throat closed in on the rest of what she was going to say. Her heart bled into her ears.

Botan pressed a hand to her bosom. Yusuke straightened next to her, wiping the laughter from his eyes. Before the girl could say anything, he took a step forward and let his face even out. Even then, Grace could see the animal prowling behind his eyes.

"It'll be done quick," he said. "_I_ promise. And afterward, you can just go about your life like nothing happened. Okay?"

She stared at him, clutching at the dumpster's ridges. Her knees were threatening to turn to jello, and her throat hadn't eased up. She could go about her life? So, he was going to let her live? She could almost breathe again. But her throat wasn't that trusting.

"Botan." Yusuke said. He didn't even look at her, his eyes trained on Grace.

Botan started. "Oh, yes, right." She fiddled through her bag. "Here it is." She tossed him something.

Grace flinched as he caught it over his shoulder. Her elbows locked against the dumpster. What was it? Another bomb, a switchblade? It must be too small for a gun. It fit perfectly in his fist, completely hidden from her view. She watched it, terrified, as he lifted the fist to his mouth.

She almost laughed when she spotted a whistle between his lips, but her lungs were too sober for the sound.

He blew for a short moment, but no sound came. Then he plucked it out his mouth and tossed it to Botan. She caught it and stowed it safely back into her bag. Grace looked at them, waiting for something.

"And?" She muttered.

"Oh, just give it a minute." Botan said with a nervous smile, scanning the rooftop and trees.

Yusuke was about to dig back into his ear for some more cleaning, when a fist came down on the back of his neck. Grace yelped and crushed herself against the dumpster as Yusuke hollered and whirled around, revealing a shorter figure with blazing, red eyes and clothes of nightmares.

He stared at her. His fist was still in the air, his thin lips drawn back tight into his face, the slightest curl of annoyance tugging at the top lip. His eyes were sharp, heated, blazing. They almost drowned out the sun peering over Pinkie's rooftop. His broad shoulders pulled out of the shadows as he stepped forward. Though his stature was smaller than average, the seething power in his crimson eyes made her feel tiny and obsolete in his presence.

Her hand darted up to the band aid on her forehead. It was still there. This couldn't really be happening, though. The band aid must be some trick of the mind, too. Some people developed psychological issues that fooled their sense of touch too; she was sure she had learned that sometime in Psychology last semester.

The shadow was in broad daylight, and he still felt ethereal. The rest of the world seemed darkened by his revelation, as if he had sobered the sun itself and the birds in the trees beyond. Stillness. He was silence and stillness. Grace pressed herself out of reach until her spine groaned against the dumpster. His eyes were like embers; she could almost feel new burns rise over her skin as he refused to blink, staring straight at her.

"The hell, Hiei!" Yusuke howled.

The shadow, Hiei, didn't even spare him a glance. He was busy pinning Grace with his stare. "I told you never to use that whistle again, woman." He must be talking to Botan, if her sudden flinch and awkward laugh were anything to go on. "And I told you I took care of it, Detective, you should have no reason to summon me."

"Yeah, here's the thing Hiei." Yusuke frowned with his bottom lip. "When I said "erase her memories with the Jagan," I didn't mean "terrorize her into promising to keep all the demon crap secret"."

Hiei's eyes drooped with boredom. "I didn't realize it was my responsibility to babysit your problems."

Yusuke wasn't perturbed. "What's up, Hiei? You do this all the time watching the border between Makai and the Nigenkia, don't you? What? Suddenly grow a conscious?" He smirked. Grace got the feeling he knew he was pushing a button.

The shadow's eyes narrowed. Grace tried to shrink into the dumpster, but the wall of metal was unyielding.

"Don't get your hopes up Yusuke." He lifted his chin. His eyes suddenly blew out, like candles, and all that was left was a deep, bone-snapping cold. How could so much fire be extinguished so quickly?

"Well, good. I'd hate to see all that unbridled hatred for humanity go just because of me." Yusuke smirked. Hiei's left eye twitched at the sarcasm. "So go ahead and do your thing, Hiei. Take it all out on her." He gestured towards her.

Grace tried to force her throat apart. Her air was gone again. The red eyes ignited almost instantly as he faced her directly once more, the embers leaping up and simmering in his black pupils.

"I'm not your maid." He said, and turned, heading off into an undetermined direction. "Take care of it yourself."

"Hiei!" Yusuke swung around. "I know you like to show off for Koenma, but I can call your bluffs. And right now I'm too pissed off to deal with your crap. Just erase the freakin' memories and we can get out of this place."

The shadow blurred. Grace smashed her hands against her mouth, strangling herself further, when he reappeared next to Yusuke, his head thrust back, the muscles under his black cloak rippling with pent up fury.

"Listen to me Detective, because I'm only going to say this once." He pointed at her, not looking, but Grace could feel that finger at her throat, prompting it to stay closed. "There is nothing in the three worlds you could offer to get me to touch that pathetic moral's mind again."

Yusuke tilted his head back slightly, measuring the shorter man, before rubbing the back of his head. "So you actually tried before, huh?"

Hiei curled his top lip back. Grace closed her eyes when she thought she saw extended incisors. Her chest was constricting; her head was swimming. Maybe it was time she gave up, gave in. She was insane. She was hallucinating. That's all there was to it, and she just needed to accept it. When she got home—if she got home—she would tell her dad. He'd research for a little while and take her to a nice loony bin, the ones where nurses didn't stop smiling the moment the sane family members left, maybe even one with nice gardens and an indoor pool.

"Don't patronize me, Detective!" Came the shadow's snarl. "Clean up your own messes. I have a job to get back to."

Grace opened her eyes as her hands trembled over her pants pockets. Here fingers were shaking too hard to pry the inhaler out of her tight jean pocket.

"Your job? You mean the one where you wipe people's minds? If I remember right, that's exactly what I'm telling you to do!" Yusuke's voice rose over the scene like lightning.

Grace finally pried out her inhaler. She looked up as she placed it in her mouth and took two puffs. Her chest expanded and her throat relaxed under its coaxing, and she gasped in the surrounding air. Now that she could breathe, she could taste the faint smell of rotting hamburgers on her tongue. She looked up and found Yusuke's back turned to her and the shadow a great deal of a distance away. She dared to venture a few steps away from the dumpster.

"Please Hiei," Botan began.

He whirled around and snapped, "Shut up woman." His eyes shot up, over Yusuke's shoulder, and grabbed Grace by the jaw. She froze under the heat of his stare. "I'm not getting near that mind again. If you want her silenced, I suggest simply ripping out her throat."

She took another puff of her inhaler. She was really going to need a refill soon.

Hiei's lip curled as he watched her. "Better yet, take that human contraption from her." He gestured back at her with his chin, and both Botan and Yusuke glanced over at her with her inhaler still poised. "Then she can suffocate in her own weakness."

She could almost feel the blood drain from her face. She shoved the inhaler into her back pocket and took a step closer to the dumpster. Two steps forward, one step back.

Yusuke turned his back again and paused, sliding his hands into his jean pockets. Grace waited in terror as the wind picked up, rustling Yusuke's slicked hairdo and the shadow's preposterous, gravity-defying, black spikes. She paused as she stared at his hair, and rubbed at her eyes. She really was going insane. No one's hair could do that; much less maintain the perfect white starburst licking up in front.

"Fine." Yusuke said finally.

Botan gasped. "Yusuke! You can't really—"

These guys had a thing for cutting her off. Yusuke plowed ahead, staring, Grace assumed, straight into Hiei's impossible red eyes. "No Botan, its fine. If Hiei wants to stay here and watch over her to make sure she doesn't spill the beans . . . ."

She didn't have to see his face to feel the smirk. Hiei bared his teeth. He was too far away for her to check and see if she was right about the incisors.

"I'm not bound by the Rekai Tentai anymore, Yusuke." He said it with a calmness his face did not contain. "I can kill her and be done with it."

"I don't know." Yusuke shrugged, and started walking past the shorter figure. Grace had to strain to hear now. "Something tells me that would go against your honor code."

The shadow was seething now. He stood motionless, arms tight and fists clenched, as Yusuke strolled passed him. Botan looked back at her, eyes wide and wondering, before she ran after him, calling his name.

Grace took another step back as she was left alone with the shadow. It was like she'd never even stepped forward.

* * *

**A/N**

**Well, I hope that wasn't too boring. I always have this strange sensation when I'm writing this story; it's a mix of reluctance and great excitement. Interesting, hm?**

**Anyhow, feel free to tell me your opinions! Feedback is essential for a writer, so let it rip! :)**

Sneak Peak:

_Her whole body froze. She could feel the ice invade her veins; replace the marrow in her bones. She looked up at him, met him in his burning eyes, felt the flames, but even they couldn't thaw the awful chill locking her limbs together._

_"_What?_" Her voice was as low as a hiss of steam. _

_He lifted his chin, revealing nothing with his expression, and looked out at the road. Grace could hear Annie still calling for her, but couldn't break from her position._

_"_What did you say?_" She ground out. _

_"Your mother, human." Hiei bit out. He didn't look at her. "How will you avenge her if you're dead? If you can't even remember the key to finding her murderer?" He smirked out at nothing. "Maybe I was wrong. You seem even denser than the rest of your species."_


	4. Vendettas Rising

**A/N **

**Hey Everyone! I'm in the middle of traveling back from my out-of-state college, so I don't have time to thank every reviewer personally, but know I am so, overflowingly grateful that you're reading. Words are wonderful, but without a reader, they are stale and usless. Thank you for making mine alive and well! You are all the best audience a girl could ask for :)**

**Also, Dice, thanks for coming back everytime and faithfully reviewing, even when you don't have an account! And welcome all other non-reviewers, all my other great, faithful reviewers, and favorite/alerters as well!**

* * *

Chapter 4—Vendettas Rising

"Go home." The shadow ordered.

Grace stared, but didn't move. Though there was plenty room either side of him, she didn't dare venture past him to go back around the building. It would practically be asking to have her throat ripped out.

His top lip curled back, and he began heading for her. She cringed back, moving to the side, until they were circling each other. She'd seen this before on Disney movies and the Discovery Channel. It was a show down between two powers. The only problem was she didn't really feel like a power.

_Hawk_, she told herself as she moved around him, their eyes never leaving one another's. Soon they were in the reverse positions. Hiei stopped. She did too.

He nodded behind her. "Go, ningen. Before I grow bored and rip you apart for fun." He rested his hand against something at his side. She glanced at it. A sword hilt?

He had a sword? Who carried swords anymore? What was he, some kind of modern samurai or something?

Grace decided not to voice her thoughts aloud. She took a breath, nodded, and started backing away.

His eyes narrowed. "Faster."

She frowned. "I don't know if you'll attack me once my back is turned." She gritted her teeth and forced her feet to continually shuffle backwards. "You'll just have to be patient." _Hawk_, she chanted, _I am a hawk_.

His eyes narrowed. Then his thin, cupid-bow lips turned up slightly on one side. The smile was more of a smirk, and more sardonic than anything else, but it relieved her tense breaths slightly.

"Smart." He muttered. "But unnecessary. If I was going to kill you, I would have already done it." The smirk dropped away. His face was barren and cold, all the heat disappearing from his eyes. "Now run. Fast."

There was no reason to believe him, but she turned, her sneakers grinding against the dust, and took off into the street.

The masses swallowed her. Grace turned, pushing against the current, disrupting the flow of bodies. People pushed her this way and that. She struggled to keep aware of her surroundings. Suddenly, a shove came from behind, and she stumbled off the sidewalk into the road. A car horn blared. It looked like a streak of red in her vision.

"Grace!" Annie's shrill scream gathered into the blare of the horn.

Something impacted her diaphragm. Her breath disappeared, her neck screaming as her head pushed forwards, against the force pulling at her torso. Things slowed. She saw the road disappear beneath her, the car screeching, Annie's call spinning through the sky after her. Then time revved up, too fast, and she was falling back into something hard and unbending.

"Agh!" The collision knocked the sound out her clenched diaphragm. Her vision collected, but she couldn't understand it. Then a face descended into her view. She focused until the shadow's pale face and simmering red eyes sharpened, and she threw herself back into the hard something behind her.

"Tsk," His top lip curled back in disgust. He sat down in front of her, letting a leg dangle off the tree branch without a care.

Wait—tree branch? Grace looked around and found herself leaning against a tree trunk. She looked down, swallowing, and saw the top of Annie's head as she rushed into the road along with a mob of unfamiliar people. She was in the tree she'd spotted the shadow in earlier.

She turned to look at him. His face was blank and starved of emotion. How did his eyes manage to burn so hot, and then cool so quickly?

"You saved me." She said. It sounded like a question.

He rolled his eyes before looking down at the baffled mob below. "Stupid human. When I told you to run I didn't mean into oncoming traffic." He glanced back up at her, and her face flushed at the insult.

"I'm not stupid." She mumbled.

"No, intelligent humans commit suicide all the time. So I suppose you're right." He stood up. She gawked as he maintained his balance on the thinner end of the branch. "You're just as stupid as the rest of your species."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" She said, before she realized what she was doing. "Human? We're all human, buddy. Is that your name of your gang, Demon or something? So everyone who's not in it is a "human"?" That seemed like really intense lingo, if you asked her.

He glanced at her out the corner of his eye. The burning was back. She leaned away as he said, "That's none of your concern, human. I gave you one simple order, to not breathe a word of any of this to anyone, and you decide to blabber to Yusuke." He looked back at the mob as it began to dissipate. "Pathetic species."

Her mouth dropped open. "_What_? But, you're—aren't you in the same gang? I didn't think you meant your own gang members!" She pressed her lips together when he didn't respond. The loose scab on her lip stretched. "Why . . . why are you helping me?"

He snapped his head to look at her. His eyes darkened. The fire grew deeper, boiling, in his black pupils. She leaned away again, clutching her knees to her chest, but she realized somewhere in the back of her head that she wasn't quite terrified. Scared, yes—she always seemed to be scared—but not asthma-attack-terrified. For some reason, he didn't want to "erase her memories" (whatever that really meant), and he had just somehow saved her from being flattened. She was extremely confused, but with everything that had happened, she had realized this at least: the shadow was the closest thing she had to an ally.

"I'm not." The shadow, Hiei, said. His voice was low and undisturbed, but his eyes were churning with fire. "I just can't stand to see something as pathetic as you squirming around, getting nowhere. It makes me sick." He snarled, but not enough to reveal his teeth. "If you kill yourself now how are you supposed to avenge your mother?"

Her whole body froze. She could feel the ice invade her veins; replace the marrow in her bones. She looked up at him, met him in his burning eyes, felt the flames, but even they couldn't thaw the awful chill locking her limbs together.

"What?" Her voice was as low as a hiss of steam.

He lifted his chin, revealing nothing with his expression, and looked out at the road. Grace could hear Annie still calling for her, but couldn't break from her position.

"_What did you say_?" She ground out.

"Your mother, human." Hiei bit out. He didn't look at her. "How will you avenge her if you're dead? If you can't even remember the key to finding her murderer?" He smirked out at nothing. "Maybe I was wrong. You seem even denser than the rest of your species."

"Remember?" She said. Words flew out of her mouth like they were trying to escape prison. "Murderer? Key? What?"

Hiei turned to face her, still perfectly balanced. He tucked his fists away into the black cloak disguising his body. The wind picked up. Grace didn't even notice as the leaves caught in her auburn curls. She stared at the shadow before her. His white scarf picked up in the wind, matching the swaying white starburst in his black, impossible hair.

"This is where my interest in you and your pathetic problems end, ningen. Do not waste the chance I have given you. I can assure you it will not happen again." His figure blurred. Grace blinked and he was gone. It was as if he had never existed.

Grace touched the band aid on her head again, staring at the place where his feet were just moments ago. The smooth latex was there, catching on a few baby hairs, concealing the crusty burn just as before. She closed her eyes and leaned back into the trunk of the tree.

She had to be going insane. It was probably schizophrenia, with her imagining all these impossible people into existence, only to have them disappear later. Was Yusuke even real? She didn't know anymore.

The tears finally came as she bowed her head and cried. She didn't want to be insane. She didn't want to be scared. Most of all, she didn't want her mother to be dead anymore.

**O.O.O.O**

Grace watched Annie drive away from her second story window, her hands pressed to the glass. She could still see the worried lines etched in her forehead, the fear and sadness bleeding out her eyes. She dropped her hands from the windows and drew the lace curtains across it. She needed some sleep.

"Gracie?"

Grace whirled around, her teeth bared and hand clenched in a trembling fist. Her dad started backwards. She sighed in relief and leaned back against the window frame.

"Yeah, dad?" She licked the scab on her lip.

It was always uncomfortable when he stopped being goofy. Grace was certain he was just as uncomfortable being serious as she was watching him be serious. His light-heartedness had always defined their relationship.

"Listen, Gracie," He kicked at her carpet with his bunny slippers, "I know this has all been a lot for you to handle. But you shouldn't push Annie and me away. You know we love you, and we'll understand." He looked up at her, his eyes looking twice as large under the magnification of his glasses. "What exactly did that boy do to you?"

Why did everyone think she'd been raped? Was she acting like a rape victim? Grace clenched and unclenched the window seal between her weak fingers. She couldn't respond. Not with the truth, and what lie would make sense? She wasn't very good at lying. She was good at ignoring, enduring, avoiding. But it was hard to evade a direct question like that.

"Dad," She said. He stared at her. She pinched the inside of her bottom lip between her front teeth. "Was mom . . . murdered?"

He moved back like she'd hit him. She felt a familiar ache grasp the tendons in her neck as his eyes widened. They'd never talked about it. Neither of them had wanted to. They'd been satisfied with censoring the sound of the telephone and hanging up their running shoes.

Grace wasn't satisfied anymore. "Dad, please." She pushed off the window. "What really happened?"

He stared at her like he was suddenly lost. She'd seen that face once before. When she ran downstairs and found her dad standing there in the kitchen, the phone against his ear, as an unnamed police officer delivered the news. Mom wasn't coming home.

"_Dad_," She said, through her teeth. She could almost see Hiei's face in her mind. His thin lips framing the words that ripped through her insides: _"How will you avenge her if you're dead? If you can't even remember the key to finding her murderer?" _

He opened his mouth. The words didn't come right away, but Grace was patient, and listened intently as they slowly leaked out. "Grace," He began. "I . . . don't know. The case is still open." He looked at his hands. "The police said—said it looked like it. But they still haven't found the body. Just pieces."

Grace dropped her head and stumbled back into the window. Her hand grasped the wooden seal; her knuckles groaned. Pieces. Pieces?

Sobs dug into the corners of her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut as hot tears leaked into the lashes. "The case is still open?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"So there's still a chance she's still alive?" She looked up through her tangled bangs.

His eyes widened. He paused and took a step forward, reaching for her, like he was about to warn her. _Don't go there, sweetheart_, his tired eyes seemed to say. _I've lived there too long._ His hand lowered. "Yes." He nodded slowly. "There's a chance."

There was a chance. She pushed off the window again. "What pieces did they find?"

He looked to the side, at the floor. She was pushing him too hard. His Adam's apple lifted and fell with a hard swallow. "Her finger. With the wedding band still on it." He closed his eyes. "An ear too. They found a wad of hair a few months ago. Been a while now, though."

She nodded. "Okay." Her voice cracked.

There was nothing either could say. Her dad paused, circling the wedding band on his finger, and turned. She watched him leave silently, and stayed rooted to the spot until the door clicked shut behind him.

Grace whirled around and opened her window. Night was falling fast. She stuck her head out the frame to let the wind cool the hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

She watched the warmth of the sun fade into abysmal blackened blue. Black and blue. Like bruises; like sky had been beaten into submission by the night. She licked her lips before pulling herself out onto the roof, and closing the window mostly behind her. Once there was only just enough room for her to slide her fingers under the jamb, she stood and let the breeze pull her curls away from her face.

She looked out into the night. Where was she going to start?

The shadow said something about her remembering "the key" to who murdered her mother. So she knew somehow. How did he know? She shook her head. She had decided on the drive home that he must be a part of her unconscious mind, trying to warn her. So, she should be able to call him back out again.

"Hiei!" She shouted. The night seemed to swallow her voice. "Hiei!"

There was no response. Only the tiny, sparkling eyes opening across the sky seemed to take notice of her. Grace frowned, and turned back to her house. Carefully, so she was sure she wouldn't slip, she found footholds in the peeling roof tiles around her window and heaved herself upwards. Her arms trembled. She pushed her lousy upper arm strength until she was atop her window. She wiped her forehead, caught hold on the upper plateau of the roof, and threw herself over the edge. Her foot didn't catch right, and she began to tumble downwards.

A strong hand caught hers and pulled. She bit back her short-lived scream, and stumbled as the plateau came up under her feet. She followed the illuminated hand covering hers, up an arm hidden in black, and found the face of the shadow himself.

She smiled. So, she really could call him out. Though it was a disturbing feeling, knowing now for sure she was truly insane, she found a certain amount of relief in his presence.

"Thanks," she said, before wondering if it made her even more insane to be so polite to her own hallucination.

He frowned. "I thought I told you I wouldn't be taking any more interest in your petty life."

Why was her mind so cryptic about showing itself? She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Well, you're here aren't you?" She turned away from the snarl he gave her. "Anyway, I need your help. I know I'm crazy to talk to you—"

"More like suicidal," He bit out.

She smiled a little. "Not yet." She chuckled a little as she looked at the stars. Weird, how nice it felt talking to herself. Her smile dropped. That probably made her lunacy official. "Anyway, I need you to hear me out. Help me figure out how to find my mom."

"You seem to have forgotten that I don't care about your pathetic problems." He snapped. He came up beside her, as silent as the black sky. "Where your ningen mother is, whether she is alive or not, is not my problem." He turned, the sound of his cloak billowing in the breeze rough on her ears. "Deal with it yourself."

She turned and scowled at his back. Why was her unconscious such a pain in the butt? "It's not like I'm asking you to _bang_, enter reality, or anything like that. I'm going to do the work myself. I just need help analyzing my subconscious." She paused as he stopped walking. Satisfied, she faced her neighborhood once again. It seemed far eerier at night. "I'm missing something. And if I ever want to see my mom again, I have to find it."

"How do you know she's even alive?" His voice carried on the breeze. She tried not to shiver as he continued. "She's probably dead. I suggested you seek vengeance, not hope. Hope is for fools."

"If I can't get one, I'll get the other." Her voice was small, but heavy. "I just need your help to get started."

He was suddenly beside her again. If she wasn't so insane already, she would have wished to be a hallucination herself. Then she could move faster than the eye could see. Maybe she'd even fly.

"I fail to see how this would benefit me." He drawled.

She shrugged. "I guess it won't. Except by bringing me peace, maybe you'll get some too." She glanced at him. That's how it worked with the subconscious and conscious mind, she was pretty sure.

At first he said nothing; his eyes simply narrowed out at the world. Then his head turned, and his eyes met hers. They were cold slates of ruby.

"Hn." The sound moved out of his un-parted lips. "Fine." He looked back out at the neighborhood.

She grinned. "Great."

* * *

**A/N**

**Oh dear Gracie, what are you getting yourself into?**

Sneak Peak:

_He didn't relinquish. Grace struggled for breath as he began dissolve right before her eyes. She slipped out of his grip, and hit her bed, her limp, struggling body giving a small bounce._ Air,_ she screamed in her head. Please! Her subconscious obviously wasn't listening—no, Hiei wasn't listening. Those fingers, the memories in those eyes. Starving her of air. He wasn't a part of her, any part._

_"If you want to find your mother, you'll breathe!" His shout rang over her cloudy skull. "If you allow yourself to take your own life, how can you expect to stop anyone else from doing so?"_

_His voice fell over her face like a steaming washcloth. Her eyes were rolling back in her head; she could feel the blood thundering in her temples._ Air!_ She screamed inside. Her lips ripped apart in desperation._ Air!

_"Breathe, dammit!" Hiei barked._


	5. Deals with the Devil

**A/N**

**Sorry for the delay guys! At first I was caught up with the wave of laziness that always infuses christmas break, and then I was caught up in the neck-breaking pace of moving into a new apartment for my next semester of college. Anyway, I'm back now with a new update. Hope I haven't lost all your valuable interest!**

**Thanks again to all my reviewers, you guys are the best! I'm running late or I'd list you all, as well as all those who favorited-you make me feel capable! :D**

* * *

Chapter 5—Deals with the Devil

They had moved inside when her nose started running. Hiei had wrinkled his nose at her, and, though she knew he was just a visible representation of the back of her mind, she'd blushed in embarrassment and insisted on moving their little meeting somewhere warmer. It took some persuading, but after a threat to wipe her nose on him instead of the back of her hand, he'd kept silent and zipped inside her window obediently.

Her initial reaction was to go open her bedroom door, since she wasn't allowed to have boys in her room with the door shut. She stopped herself after one step, and rolled her eyes. When it came to hallucinations, she was pretty sure the gender didn't matter.

She turned back to Hiei and sat down on the bed. He stood by the foot of it, his eyes piercing through the blackness like smelted daggers.

"Well?" She said.

His eyes narrowed. "Hn."

She frowned. The scab on her lip stretched too far and she winced as blood leaked into her mouth. She wiped it on the back of her hand and straightened.

"Biting your lip is a sign of insecurity. It lets your enemies know you're unsure of yourself. Marks you as prey." Hiei turned to face her. "If you want to find her, you're going to have to stop that."

She nodded. Stop being scared. Right. Her shoulders slumped. Because it was that easy, to stop being scared, when it was basically all she'd done this past year.

"That too." His pale, accusing finger sliced through the darkness. "Sit up straight again. Meet me in the eyes. I won't help a weakling."

She straightened out her spine. It felt stiff and uncomfortable. Peering through the shade, she found his red eyes simmering at the end of her bed. His finger descended and retreated, melding back into his shadowy form.

"Better." He murmured.

"Okay," She said. "So, um, can you start telling me what I'm missing? What key thing am I supposed to remember?"

"You fool." Why was her subconscious so mean? "If you don't have the strength to remember, even I can't help you."

She gawked at him. "What? It's not like I'm locking away the memories or anything! I just can't remember. I'm forgetful, it happens okay?" She folded her arms and glared at him.

His eyes narrowed. She couldn't see the tilt of his head through the darkness, but she was almost sure he was staring down at her condescendingly again. "Are you so sure about that? Your mind is full of fear, fear so dark it tastes like the very flames of hell." The eyes widened, filled with the clamoring wrath of the damned. "You reek of terror. How sure are you that you aren't hiding from yourself?"

She swallowed hard, searching those eyes. If he was a part of her, wasn't all that pain and death in her as well?

Suddenly, her chest seized. No. She could see something in those eyes, something foreign; something completely _not her_. Grace scrambled for her inhaler, unable to look away from his gaze, the terror he spoke of filling every vein in her body.

Just as she touched the cool plastic of her inhaler, a pale hand came down on hers and wrenched it from her grasp.

"NO!" She shouted, and dived for it.

He lifted it out of her reach, a powerful hand on her shoulder, holding her back. "You cling to this contraption like it was your mother. It's pathetic_._"

"I need it!" The words were getting harder. She flailed against his grip. His fingers dug into the flesh of her shoulder. Panic raced through her mind, her lungs squeezing together, her head swimming. "Please—" her air was almost gone, "—I can't breathe!"

He didn't relinquish. Grace struggled for breath as he began dissolve right before her eyes. She slipped out of his grip, and hit her bed, her limp, struggling body giving a small bounce. _Air_, she screamed in her head. _Please_! Her subconscious obviously wasn't listening—no, Hiei wasn't listening. Those fingers, the memories in those eyes. Starving her of air. He wasn't a part of her, any part.

"If you want to find your mother, you'll breathe!" His shout rang over her cloudy skull. "If you allow yourself to take your own life, how can you expect to stop anyone else from doing so?"

His voice fell over her face like a steaming washcloth. Her eyes were rolling back in her head; she could feel the blood thundering in her temples. _Air_! She screamed inside. Her lips ripped apart in desperation. _Air_!

"Breathe, dammit!" Hiei barked.

The nighttime became tangible. She was breathing now, suddenly, but she was breathing in blackness. It pervaded all her senses. She couldn't see. Her lungs were heavy with the weight of it; her tongue grew lax with pain. It was too thick. Too thick to breathe. She was better off not breathing at all.

"Woman!" the word clawed itself through the blackness stuffing her ears. "I said breathe!"

Her lips stayed parted, but her chest was too tight. She closed her eyes and let herself fall into the night.

Heat spread through her mouth. Grace lurched up, suddenly sucking in air, her head spinning. Gasps dragged themselves up and down her throat; she hit a hand against her chest, coughing out the blackness, and kidnapping air with her parted lips. She swallowed and threw her head back.

"Gah!" She cried, and dropped onto her back. As her eyes cracked open, she found Hiei's burning gaze narrowed on her from above. She rubbed her thundering temple. "What—did—you—do?" She managed between pants.

"Tsk." The moon highlighted the curl of his upper lip. "You failed to save yourself. Pitiful."

She swallowed and, hesitantly, touched her lips. They were hot. Not burning, but hot. She looked up at him questioningly.

A glare was his only answer. "Be warned, this is the last time I save you. Next time, I'll let you suffocate on your own fear."

"It wasn't fear." She mumbled. "It's called asthma. It's a medical condition."

"Maybe for some." He walked around her bed to stand in front of the window. He seemed even less real bathed in the moonlight, somehow. "For you, it's a crutch. An excuse. The way some people use family or friends, you use this thing." He lifted the inhaler and inspected it, his hair leaning with the breeze of the open window.

"That's not fair." She meant to continue, but she couldn't find the words.

"Heh." He turned slightly, so one crimson orb caught the light and glittered at her like a spark. "That's true, human. But life's not fair." Grace watched in horror as he pulled his arm back, and chucked her inhaler out the window. "Get used to it."

"No!" Her voice ripped through the back of her throat, and she threw herself at the window. Her hand stretched into the night, useless and desperate. She looked through the night, hoping to find some sign of her only relief. Trembling, she retracted her arm and, slowly, bent herself in half over the window frame.

"Stand up straight and at least pretend you have some kind of pride." Hiei said. His voice was monotone and withdrawn. "No wonder you always smell of fear."

The window scratched against the band aid on her forehead. She peeked out the side of her arm, through her hair, to watch his profile. There was no hint of emotion; no satisfaction, not even disgust. He was an objective narrator, freely exposing her faults without giving reaction.

It burned her up inside.

Grace straightened up in an instant, snapping her spine into place, and faced him. He stared out the window, carelessly. Before she even knew what she was doing, her palm struck out.

He caught her by the wrist. She gritted her teeth, heat swelling in the corners of her eyes until she was terrified that she might cry. She couldn't cry; not in front of him. Not in front of this horrible, withdrawn shadow.

He turned his head. His eyes filled with flames again. She could almost feel heat blossom over her fingers as he stared at her hand like it was an alien.

Slowly, a wicked smirk pulled at his thin lips. His crimson eyes stared at her between her spread fingers. "Better, human." His voice was so low, it was almost thunder. "But can you hold onto that boldness when you need it most?"

She yanked her hand out of his grip. He let it slide through his agile fingers. "I guess I'll find out." She scowled.

He tipped his chin up and regarded her. His eyes were still hot and alive. She decided she liked it better when they were like that; the intensity was a bit frightening, but when he was engaged like this, she felt less humiliated. At least this way, she was regarded in some way—not dismissed like a fly squirming in a distant cobweb.

"Are you ready?" He said.

She knitted her brows together and frowned. "For what?"

He glared. "If you act this insipid, I'll leave."

She swallowed, her eyes dancing over the highlighted side of his pale, eerie complexion. He wasn't something she'd imagined. He'd burnt her, he'd strangled her, and then—saved her? And even now, looking into that boiling gaze, she could feel memories entirely foreign struggling in his black pupils.

"What are you?" The words streamed from her mouth in a whisper.

He blinked. The fire quieted. He was deathly still. "A demon." He said. "From the pits of hell." He cocked his head to the side, his top lip curling back. "Now, are you ready?"

Red demon. It was so ironic, yet it fit.

She backed away, paused and climbed onto her bed, her back facing him. Obviously, she wasn't going to get a serious answer out of him. She took several unsteady breaths. Her lungs caught against her ribs on the third inhale, but after a momentary struggle, she loosened it. She didn't have her inhaler anymore. If she had an asthma attack now, it would be the end of her and her mother.

"Okay." She whispered. "I'm ready."

Truthfully, she was bluffing. She had no idea what Hiei intended to do in order to help her reach her subconscious, the answers she was missing, especially now that she knew he actually wasn't a part of her unconscious mind. But he was here, and he acted like he had an intention to help. "Demon" crap or not, he was here, and she could almost _feel_ how much she needed him.

She closed her eyes as his hands touched the crown of her head. A hot, swirling heat spread down her skull and crawled into the rest of her body. She shuddered.

"Don't resist." He said.

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, when a shock of purple lightning rocketed through her senses. She remembered screaming, clutching her chest, before everything shattered into blackness.

"_That's it!" Yusuke's rugged yell blew through the alley. "Spirit gun!" _

_A scream wrenched through her mouth before she knew what was happening. Her eyes seared with pain as blinding light erupted down the alley—did he have a bomb?—and a rush of scratchy heat peeled her hair back from her face. She choked on the crackling smell as it coursed through her nostrils, and slid to the gravel ground as the wind suddenly stopped and left her heart hammering and throat parched._

Grace stood over herself, watching the gravel scatter over her body as she winced into the wall. She blinked and rubbed her eyes.

"You're missing the important part." Hiei's voice snapped.

She whirled around. He was standing beside her, his eyes cold and narrowed on her. She jumped, and he scowled as heat flickered back into his expression.

"What—" Grace turned in a circle, taking in the scene with a growing sense of confusion. "What's going on?"

"Fool."

She turned to him and frowned. He met the unpleasant face and raised her a cold glare. His arms lifted and a finger extended in the opposite reaction, targeting Yusuke's distant form.

"Try to be less self-involved." He said. "The Detective is what you're missing."

She glanced around his black figure and found Yusuke, his hands clasped in front of him like he was holding a gun. He wasn't moving. "He didn't do that before." She mumbled.

"Of course not." He snapped. "This is your memory. I paused it so you could attempt to analyze it." He tipped his head back, staring off in Yusuke's direction. "Unless that's too much for you, human."

"Stop calling me that." She hissed, and stomped off into the alley. The gravel crunched under her feet. She glanced over her shoulder to find Hiei staring down at her body by the wall like it was a vaguely amusing animal. "And don't look at me—er, it, er, me—" She squinted and shook her head. "Just leave _that_ me alone, okay?"

"You are truly a master of language." His lips barely moved with the insult.

She stopped by Yusuke. "Shut up!" Her cheeks burned as his eyes narrowed. "And do you mind explaining how the heck we're here? In my memories? Or is that too difficult for you?"

Her spunk evaporated when Hiei suddenly appeared in front of her. She cringed back, wincing preemptively, and peered at him over the arm she had raised to block the way between the blow she expected and her face. He rolled his eyes.

"I won't hurt you, woman." He took her arm and forced it down to her side. "If you have to keep asking me questions I've already answered, I'll cease speaking."

She caught a scoff in her mouth and swallowed it whole. His hand was still locked around her arm, and, despite having judged him as her ally, she wasn't eager to test his temper.

"I'm sorry." She forced out. His eyebrows leapt up behind his black bangs. "Just, I must have missed it. Indulge me. Please."

He frowned deeply to one side. Suddenly he snatched his hand back from her arm, as if she had just burnt him. "I'm a demon, fool. My Jagan allows me to break passed mental barriers and constructs."

She stared at him. Blinked. Shook her head. "Did you fall back into Japanese just then? Because I didn't get any of that."

She took a small step back when his glare came at her at full force. Even her organs felt like shriveling up; her stomach was gripping itself. Unbridled fire filled his eyes as he digested her stupidity. It wasn't her fault he was talking in code or something!

"You _fool_." He spat. It was different from his other insults. This one was branded with perfect rage and glistened with venom. "I am a demon. I come from Demon World, Makai, the depths of _Hell_." His hand lifted to his forehead, brushing past his bangs. Grace caught sight of a white head band and nearly raised her eyebrows (what? Was he planning on dropping by the gym?), when he grasped the cloth and wrenched it off. A small bump was on his forehead.

Grace nearly reached out to pat him, make him feel more comfortable. Zits were a part of growing up, though she had to admit she'd never seen one this big, or pale. Maybe he had put some concealer over it. She wouldn't blame him, with the size of it. She started to smile.

His eyes were too serious. Her gaze darted from his burning pupils up to the bump. At first, she thought her mind's eye was playing tricks on her. Then she started shifting through her thoughts and realized that it wasn't a trick. There was a line across the bump, and it was separating into lids. Lids that were peeling back across his forehead. To reveal something that made even less sense. An eye. An eye in his forehead.

She slapped a hand over her mouth and pointed. "H-Hiei-!" She choked on whatever else she was going to say as the eye widened, staring directly at her, and glowed lavender. Her ribs were crushing inwards again.

"This is the Jagan, the evil eye." His voice was swarming around her, drowning out the frozen scene around her. Everything was dissolving into purple mist. "It pulls down your mental barriers and allows me passage. But in a way, it has a mind of its own." She could hear the dark grin in his voice. "Resisting it would be unwise."

She could feel herself resisting. The memory was collapsing on and rebuilding itself in repeated succession. The only definite objects anymore were her own paled figure and Hiei's. Three eyes stared her down through the mist, grasping her as she struggled against it.

"Woman!" Hiei's voice barked. It rang through her skull.

Tingles were erupting in her legs—her real legs. She could almost feel her physical body seated against the unkempt sheets of her bed. She felt her body yanking on her mind. It was like a great, reverse wind, calling her back as the purple mist held on tightly, pressing her into herself, as it held her fast. Her mind groaned as she was pulled apart.

"_Woman_!" Hiei snarled through the chaos. "Do you want to find your mother or not?"

Her mother. Her eyes snapped open. All she could see was the purple mist, swirling out from the glowing, third eye. Her stomach turned. _Mom_, she whispered. The word hissed through the flickering scenery. The wind stopped pulling her back, and the eye sucked her back in.

She gasped. She was back, surrounded by the frozen memory of the alley way, Yusuke to her right and Hiei directly in front of her. She stumbled forwards and caught herself on his shoulders. His muscles tensed into cords of steel.

"Onna." A warning.

She sucked in a couple more breaths before moving back, eagerly separating them. "Sorry." She panted, and looked around her. "Just . . . I don't understand. This can't be real. It can't."

"Of course." Hiei stated blankly. "It's a memory."

She scowled up at the grey sky. Everything had a pale, greyed film over it. "Not what I meant." She shook her head and looked over at Yusuke's posed back. "I mean . . . demons? That's crazy. I'm crazy." She closed her eyes and pressed her hands over her face. "I need to wake up. I'm dreaming, or hallucinating, and I need to wake up."

"Wonderful idea." Hiei snapped. "Maybe your mother's there too, and you've dreamt it all." He gave a light scoff. "Face reality, ningen. This is your world and there's nothing you can do about it."

She squeezed her eyes closed against the soft, squishy surface of her palms. Heat was building between her lashes again. Sobs jogged in her chest. No, no, no. She couldn't cry where he could see.

She lifted her face out of her hands, and, as quickly as she could, walked around Yusuke on the opposite side to the shadow. She blinked hard, fast, to let the tears evaporate. She hid her shaky breaths by examining his pose, and the target she hadn't been able to identify before.

"Agh!" She scrambled backwards as she found a headless—_thing_. She swallowed a wave of nausea and came closer. It was large and dressed in a suit, like a human, but from what she could see, it was anything but. The skin was red, the feet large and clawed, decorated with pieces of torn shoes. Its hands were large and beefy, with nails as long and sharp as knives.

Grace tried to resist, but her eyes scanned the ground in search for a head. "Ugh," she mumbled and forced back the bile climbing her throat. It was a distance away, frozen a foot or so from the ground. She scrubbed a hand down her face, pulling on her left eyelid and the corners of her lips.

Hiei strode over to the head, paused, and kicked it towards her. She yelped and jumped out of the way. The flesh slapped against the ground and rolled to a stop face up. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and crouched in front of it.

"A . . . demon?" Her voice was meant to sound strong, removed, but the last word tipped off her lips like a sick, drunken sailor.

The face was too large, the hair unruly and black like an animal pelt's. The eyes were large and bulging, the mouth too wide for proper human proportions with teeth crowding its every grotesque inch. A horn was imbedded in its forehead; large, white tusks sprung up from its bottom jaw and curled out of its mouth. The empty look in its wet, swollen eyes sickened her the most.

When Hiei didn't acknowledge her earlier statement, she continued. "But . . . it doesn't look like you at all."

"Hn." His boots appeared in the upper left of her peripheral vision. "It's barely a C-class, that's why." He shot forwards and kicked the head away again.

Grace looked up at him as she stood. She was nearly taller than him at full height, she realized, yet even straightened out as she was, she felt small and weak in his presence.

"I don't know what that means." She told him with an exhausted sigh. He was taking all his knowledge for granted; did he think she knew all the ins and outs after five minutes?

He frowned as he watched the head roll to a stop a distance away. "It means it had no chance against Yusuke." He glanced at her. "And it wouldn't have lasted a second against me."

She blinked a couple of times, trying to get what he meant out of his round-about explanation. "So . . . weak demons look like butt-ugly trolls?"

He gave her a single nod and turned away, walking back towards the paused, slumped form of her past self. She ran after him.

"Wait, wait," She called. "Why show me this memory? So I can understand you and Yusuke better or—"

"That would be a waste of time." Hiei walked passed her past form and started into a muddy, undeveloped part of the memory. "I have no use for such things."

"No use for friends?" She muttered under her breath.

He stopped before the rippling, undecided scenery beyond and cast her a frozen look over his shoulder. "Friends are a crutch for the weak. I have none, and refuse to weaken myself with that kind of hideous baggage."

Grace watched his back as he turned away and stretched a hand toward the mass. It began to coagulate, sinking towards his fingers, seemingly bending to his will. Despite how utterly insane this was, she wasn't paying it much attention. Instead, she was filled with a dot of remembrance. She'd baited him with a promise of peace if he helped her recover memories. A peace she'd been certain she could grant because she had thought he was her subconscious. He wasn't. Yet he had been drawn in by the promise nonetheless.

"But you want them, don't you?" She said.

He didn't even pause. "What are you babbling about, human?"

"You want someone to be close to you, don't you?" She came up beside him, searching his profile. It revealed nothing; it was as cold and hidden as a candle in a snowdrift. So why did she feel her words with such certainty? "Don't you? That's why you're helping me."

Hiei said nothing. The rippling finally stopped, and suddenly wrenched apart. Grace ducked her head as wind whipped out from the opening.

"Move." He ordered over the noise of the wind.

She shuffled forwards, pressing slowly, cautiously, into the opening, when she lost her balance and toppled into its depth. Her scream was drowned out by the wind, before she cut it off herself in a great gust of silence. She looked around, and found herself. Literally.

She was curled up into a ball under her bed. Grace went over and sat by her past self's arm, gazing about and wondering why she was so small in this memory, and watched Yusuke's footsteps pace through the strip of space. Hiei appeared, standing, next to her. She looked up at him. He didn't spare her the slightest attention, simply raised his arm to point at the frustrated steps of memory Yusuke. She turned back and listened closely.

"_What's the problem, Yusuke?" The voice sounded like it was coming from a device. Kind of crackly, like a phone with a bad signal. "Have you taken care of the demon or not?" _

Oh, had he. She thought back to the beheaded creature and shuddered. A breeze flew past her shoulder from behind, and she frowned as she realized her past-self was breathing hard and frantically, like she was having a heart attack. It was a wonder Yusuke hadn't heard her meltdown.

"_Calm down, baby breath." Yusuke said. "You're stupid human trafficker's wasted in an alleyway. Now listen, I've got a problem. Some American girl saw me taking him out and now I can't find her."_

How could he not? Her breath was so loud from behind, it sounded like a tornado in her ear. Suddenly, it stopped, and Grace felt a rough buzzing sit down in her skull.

"Did you catch that?" Hiei said.

She rubbed her left ear, trying to wipe the moisture from her spastic breath off the thin skin. "What?"

Hiei snapped his head down to look at her, eyes wide and furious. She cringed and held out her hands, "Sorry, sorry!" Her voice shrunk on her tongue. "Give me a second, I'll think of it."

He straightened out, gritting his teeth and staring off at Yusuke's feet frozen in mid-step. Grace let her eyes run up Hiei's black side and trace along the line of his jaw to his mouth. She detected a small line in the clenched block of white teeth and stood up slowly. He glanced at her, his gaze narrowed and waiting.

"Are those fangs?" She asked.

His eyes widened lividly. "I'll take you out myself if you can't concentrate, human!"

She winced away from his burning rage and turned her back to him. She could still see the sharp line of his incisors in her mind. Fangs—the whole idea was so preposterous, but so were tusks and demons, and freaky purple third eyes in the middle of people's foreheads. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, feeling the ache deep in her skull, and let out a spotted breath.

_Mom_, she thought desperately, _how can I find you when I have to try and accept all this?  
_She wiped her hands down her face. It didn't matter. Whatever it took; demons, exorcisms, espionage; she would find her mother. The sudden release of pressure sent large bubbles of yellow and black floating through her vision. She locked her knees to stay standing as her head swam.

When her equilibrium didn't recover quickly enough, Grace simply closed her eyes and concentrated. She sent Yusuke's conversation with the crackly phone voice through her mind and tore it into pieces, dissecting it sentence by sentence. The words trickled down her ears. _Demons . . . baby breath . . . American girl . . . stupid human trafficker . . . wasted in an alleyway._

A shock caught her by the spine and sapped the air straight out of her lungs. Her mouth opened desperately. _Human trafficker. Wasted in an alleyway._

She whirled around, her breath locked between her bones, eyes desperate for confirmation.

Hiei met her stare and raised an eyebrow. It made the lower lid of his creepy third eye crinkle, like it might almost be amused.

She shook her head and practiced her lungs until air leaked back inside them. "H-Human trafficker?" She coughed up. His eyes smoldered soberly. "That's . . . no, wait." She closed her eyes. She could almost feel a hand shuffling through her memories, reaching further back, and grabbing at the Yahoo Home screen article her dad's laptop had displayed a week or so ago. "No way." She ripped her eyelids apart, stumbling towards the shadow as he simply stood there, watching her piece it all together. "The human trafficker rumors . . . I saw an article on it. But I thought it was further east! In New York, I thought, not here in Missouri." She pressed a hand to her thundering temple. Her skin was growing hot and gathering a slick layer of sweat. "They . . . have my mom, don't they?"

Hiei blinked. She knew it was a nod.

A tiny burst of hope shot through her chest. "Wait!" She gave in to an unsure grin. "Yusuke killed the human trafficker demon, right? So it was demons running it! And he killed him, so my mom is safe now." She ran to him and grabbed his shoulders, grinning fully now. Her cheeks felt like they were going to pop.

Yusuke had saved her mother. As soon as Grace went and got her from wherever she was being held, she would have her mother's footsteps filling the empty places in the house. Grace was going to watch her dad smile again, the way he used to. She wouldn't have to stare at his back as the telephone rang, waiting for him to enter reality, to accept it. She would be able to pick up her running shoes! She felt warm tears fill her eyes as Hiei started backwards, his shoulders tense and mouth stretching into a hard, resistant frown. She would be able to run for her mom again. She would pound her feet into the tarmac, run for hours, punish her legs until her mom knew how sorry she was. She would sweat out her apologies, and her mom would watch her come home, covered in a grimy, wet film, and her wonderful mother would smile and understand. Grace would finally be able to repent. For IT. For everything.

Hiei snatched up her arms, holding them by the wrists with a curl of his upper lip, and forced them from his shoulders. "Your powers of deduction are amazing. Now try not to be sick."

She began to ask what he meant, when a horrible fire erupted in her forehead. She wrenched her mouth open to scream, feeling a hurricane grasp her body and throw her backwards. Her neck screamed, eyes bled, limbs shattered, as she smashed back into her own body.

"Agh!" She half gasped, half screamed and doubled over in the darkness of her room.

"Hn." Hiei shifted behind her, his hand retracted from her head. "Now what are your plans, onna?"

She swallowed the searing pain, pressing it down from her forehead and hiding it in her stomach. She peeled her eyelids back and jumped when she found the shadow's sharp eyes glowing out from the darkness, directly in front of her. They narrowed.

Grace took a relaxing breath. "I'm not sure yet." She furrowed her brows at his bored expression. "But I'll figure it out. I guess maybe I'll review some Sherlock Holmes." She picked up the anthology lounging on her bedside cabinet and fingered through the paper, page numbers illuminated just enough for her to locate 1125, "The Bohemian Scandal". She'd studied it recently in AP English; maybe a refresher would inspire her detective skills.

"Tsk," Hiei's voice felt almost tangible in the darkness. "Your initiative is inspiring."

She bit on the corners of her mouth and glanced up through her bangs. He had closed his eyes; she couldn't find him in the shadows without those glowing fires. "I'm not exactly a detective, okay? This is by Arthur Conan Doyle, the greatest mystery writer of all time. I'm thinking that if I study it, I might—"

"She could be on the edge of death." The eyes appeared like a forest fire—sudden, all consuming. "Who's to say the demon Yusuke killed was even the leader? The Detective isn't as perceptive as his title implies."

She opened her mouth, but her thoughts had shriveled up when he said the word "death." She locked her mouth together and clenched the edges of the anthology until her knuckles groaned.

The eyes glanced off to the side.

The air was muggy and hungry for relief. Grace rubbed at her shoulder, ran her tongue over her front teeth—they felt furry—and went to the window. The breeze had faded away. She leaned her head out of the frame in search of it.

"She's not dead." She said. She wanted to believe it too badly to harbor it only in her heart. "She's not."

"Hn." He was next to her, now.

She sucked in a sharp breath, glanced at his dark figure illuminated only by a thin strip of moonlight, and leaned into the corner of the window frame. Did all demons move that quickly?

"Why did Yusuke kill that awful creature-thing, anyway?" She looked back at the ethereal being beside her. He didn't meet her probing gaze. "I mean, he comes all the way from Japan and _obviously_ doesn't care enough about school to get into the exchange school program. So, like, what is he? A supernatural bounty hunter or something?" As she thought about it, this whole situation sounded eerily similar to the terrible plot for a paranormal romance she'd seen sitting in the seedy section of the local bookstore. She rubbed her forehead with a depleted sigh.

How had her life become a supernatural soap opera?

Hiei finally reacted; his black eyebrow twitched upwards. "He used to be employed by Spirit World as a guardian of sorts. This pathetic human realm would have been demolished by demons ten times over by now, if he hadn't stubbornly stood by to protect it."

She stared at him. He turned to her, probably provoked by her unusual stillness, she guessed, and narrowed his eyes. They weren't filled with anger, rage, or grand annoyance this time, however. They were almost suspicious. Watchful.

She let out a hard stream of air through the slight gap between her front teeth. "I sound like I'm in an even more screwed up version of Twilight. Or some other contrived New York Times Bestseller."

She shook her head and groaned quietly, in the back of her throat, at his expression. If nothing else, it was obvious that he didn't live in this world. His face was completely vacant; not even an amused twitch at the Twilight joke.

"'kay." She muttered, and pressed her head back out the window. "So, um, you wouldn't happen to maybe—just maybe—want to help me with the next step?"

Something gave a dark purr behind her. She twisted to give him a wide-eyed stare over her shoulder. Despite the worry pressing into her body with every tense second, amusement began to carve at the left corner of her mouth.

"Did you just _purr_?" She forced back a hilarious smile.

He seemed surprised for a moment, before his expression twisted into a murderous glare. Grace decided later she must have been in shock because so far, when Hiei glared at her, she had been filled with fear. Now, suddenly, she was filled with a bubbling sensation that burst out her mouth in the form of raucous laughter. He grew more and more furious as she laughed, but she was suddenly swollen with the hilarity—and probably some trauma-induced, chemical imbalance—of the whole situation and couldn't find it in herself to be scared.

"It was a growl, _moron_." He snarled.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to muffle her guffaws. Her dad was rarely stirred from his work at this time of night, but considering everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours, he might find the distant sound of laughter trailing from her room the slightest bit disconcerting.

She pulled out of the window and threw her head up, tipping back until she lay on her bed, her hair scrunching beneath her, bathed entirely in the slow moonlight.

After a few moments, her laughter trailed off into bemused hums. She looked up then, at the shadow revealed by the moon, and let her face flatten.

"Please?" She asked.

Half of his face stretched into the night. The other was cold, unrelenting marble, power-washed with the moon. He tipped his head, and his left eye ate up the light, consuming it without apology.

"I have no reason to." He said.

She nodded. He was right.

He turned his back to her, transforming into a silhouette. "I've missed the smell of blood. . . I suppose I will get my fill if I join you and hunt down the disgusting, lower-class demons crowding this world."

_Mommy_, she thought hard across the distance, beaming at the dark back before her window, _It might have just taken a deal with the devil, but I'm coming for you. Hang on._

* * *

**A/N**

**Me: Well, there you go! Exciting? Mystifying? Your opinions are high valued by yours truly. No, not Yours Truly, me.**

**Yours Truly: Well, maybe I find them valuable too!**

**Me: Everything's about you, isn't it? Hush for a minute, I'm talking to the readers.**

**Yours Truly: (grumble)**

**Me: Everyone, have a fabulous day and I would absolutely LOVE it if you reviewed. No pressure, no pressure. haha**

_Sneak Peak:_

_She grabbed him by the back of his shoulders. His knees buckled, and suddenly she was on his back. It was broad and warm. A stodgy lump of horror lodged in her throat, blocking off her air, as his hands grabbed her thighs and yanked them around his hips._

_Only a thin squeal managed to force its way past the lump. She clung onto his shoulders, digging her nails through the fabric of his cloak, as he straightened with her on his back._

_He turned his head. Her heart raced, driving against her unsteady ribs, as he flashed her a burning, dangerous look over his shoulder. "What did you think you were doing, woman?"_


End file.
